Maid for Love
by GlamaHart32
Summary: Megan Wright is determined to leave her hometown of Gansett Island, a place that has brought her only bad memories and ugly rumors. Then she's knocked off her bike on the way to her housekeeping job at Ambrose's Resort Hotel by Gansett's "favorite son," Dean Ambrose. He's back in town to help his father with preparations to sell the family resort and has no intention of staying.
1. Chapter 1

Megan Wright retrieved her nine-month-old son Kyle from his crib and checked her watch. She was due at the hotel for the morning housekeeping shift in fifteen minutes. After a diaper change, she handed Kyle his bottle, grateful he could now hold it himself.

He let out a squeal of delight that drew a smile from Megan.

"You like that, huh, buddy?"

His pudgy legs bounced about on either side of her hips, and she tightened her hold on him while attempting to tame his soft brown hair. She grabbed the diaper bag, the tote she took to work, retrieved her lunch from the refrigerator and headed out the door. Across the yard, she entered her sister's house through the screen door on the back deck.

"Morning," she called out.

"In here," Paige said from the living room, where she sat amid three babies and a variety of toys. One of the babies was her daughter, Saraya, born just a month before Kyle. The other two Paige cared for as part of her in-home daycare business.

Megan kissed Kyle, whispered that she loved him and plopped him down on the mat with the others. "I'm running late as usual."

"Go ahead. We're fine."

"I'll be back by three."

"See you then."

Paige watched Kyle for free during the day in exchange for Megan taking over the daycare from three to six, while Paige taught dance classes in her studio under the apartment Megan rented from Paige and her husband Kevin. The delicate balancing act left Megan worn out at the end of every long day.

She jumped on her bulky old bike and set off for Ambrose's Gansett Inn on the other side of the island. Checking her watch one more time, she groaned when she saw how close she was cutting int.

From his vantage point in the ferry's wheelhouse, Dean Ambrose watched the bluffs on the island's north coast come into view and felt the vise around his chest tighten. Just the sight of the island where he grew up made Dean feel confined.

"Never gets old, does it?" Dean's childhood best friend, Captain Seth Rollins, owned and operated Gansett's thriving ferry business.

"What's that?" Dean asked.

"The first view of the island. Always gives me a thrill to see it appear out of the fog."

"Even after all the times you've seen it?"

"I still love it."

Dean studied his old friend. Time had worn some lines into the corners of Seth's hazel eyes, and his dark black hair was now shot through with small streaks of gray that hadn't been there on Dean's last trip home.

"You ever wish you'd done something else?" Dean asked. "Gone out in the world a bit?"

Seth took a long drag off his trademark clove cigarette and clicked the ashes out the open doorway. "Go where? Do what?"

"Those things are gonna kill you," Dean said, nodding to the cigarette.

"No faster than working three hundred plus days a year is gonna kill you."

"Touché," Dean said with a chuckle.

"Are you planning to tell mama bear about your night in the hospital?"

"Hell no! She'd freak out all over me. That's the last thing I need."

Seth laughed. "What's it worth to ya?"

Dean shot him what he hoped was a menacing scowl.

"You wouldn't dare."

"So what happened?"

"The doctors said it was an anxiety attack—too little sleep, too much work, too much stress. They ordered me to take at least a month off to recover."

"How'd the big boss man take that news?"

"Not so well since I'm at the height of a major title push right now. We've busier that hell leading up to WrestleMania, but they'll handle it until I get back." Dean was a wrestler for the WWE and he traveled all around the country going from state to state and city to city. He had just won the Royal Rumble and was set for a title match at WrestleMania.

"And your girlfriend? Renee, right?"

"My ex-girlfriend. We decided to cool it for a while. And then I got the email from my mother about my dad selling Ambrose's…I told my mom I'd help him fix the place up a bit."

"I still can't believe that."

Dean shrugged. "He can't work forever, and none of us want to deal with it."

"How's your sister doing? I haven't seen her in a while."

Despite the nonchalant question, Dean knew there was nothing nonchalant about his friend's feeling for Nikki. "Still carrying that torch?"

Seth shrugged. "I've yet to meet anyone I like better."

"She and John are engaged, man. Might be time to move on."

"Maybe." He flashed the grin that had made him popular with the girls in high school—not that he'd noticed after he gave his young heart to Nikki Bella. "She's not married yet."

"Seth—"

"I'm not going to show up at the wedding in a gorilla suit and cart her off or anything."

Dean studied the expression on his friend's face: staged indifference mixed with wistfulness. "That sounds a little too well planned."

"No worries, I don't own a gorilla suit. I am thinking about getting a dog, though."

Dean laughed at that because Nikki worked for the island's veterinarian.

Seth steered the 110-foot ferry past the breakwater to the island's South Harbor port.

Dean watched the town of Gansett come into view—the bustling port, the white landmark Beachcomber Hotel with its clocked tower and turrets, the Victorian Portside Inn, the strip of boutiques and t-shirt shops, the South Harbor Diner, Mario's Pizzeria and Ice Cream Parlor where Dean stole his first kiss from Liv Morgan in eighth grade.

His overriding memory of growing up there was plotting his escape. Once he finally managed to leave, he'd never looked back except for occasional visits to his parents. Every time he came home, he counted the minutes until he could leave again. This would be his longest stay since he turned eighteen and left for wrestling school. Dean wondered how long it would take before he was chomping to leave again.

Salt air, diesel fuel and rotting seaweed—the aromas of home—filled Dean's senses and turned his stomach. He hated the smell of rotting seaweed.

"Come on back with me," Seth said.

At the ferry's stern, Dean watched as Seth used a combination of engine power and bow thrusters to efficiently turn the ferry in the tightest imaginable space and back it into its berth. "You make that look so damned easy."

"It is easy—especially when you've done it a thousand or two times."

Once the ferry was docked, they stood at the rail and watched the throngs of trucks, cars and tourists disembark from the day's first boat to Gansett.

"I still spend Friday and Saturday nights on the island during the summer," Seth said as Dean gathered up his stuff. "Come on by the Beachcomber if you feel like grabbing a brew or two."

"I'll do that." Dean shook Seth's hand. "It's good to see you, man."

"Been too long."

"Yeah." But as Dean took a long look at the bustling town of Gansett, he decided it hadn't been nearly long enough.

Carrying his oversize backpack, Dean navigated the crowds on his way to Main Street. He stopped to let a family on bikes pass and continued up the hill, mesmerized by the frantic activity.

To his left, in neat, orderly rows, cars, vans and passenger trucks waited to back onto the nine a.m. ferry for the fifty minutes return trip to the mainland Rhode Island. Seth's employees moved like a well-oiled NASCAR pit crew, offloading cargo from the arriving Gerry and reloading the next boat. The island relied on the ferries to deliver everything from food to mail to fuel to milk. During the summer, when the island's thirty restaurants and bars operated at full tilt, each ferry brought new shipments of beer, wine, liquor, fresh seafood, potatoes, vegetables and linens.

A forklift carrying a pallet of soda came within inches of running into Dean.

"Sorry, man," the operator called out with a smile.

Dean waved to the driver. He cleared the cargo area and fixed his gaze on the Beachcomber, the iconic building that anchored the town. The quaking horn of a Range Rover painted yellow and tricked out like a duck—complete with a bill affixed to the hood—caught Dean's eye. Laughing at the JSTDKY license plate, he stepped off the curb onto Main Street.

A searing pain stabbed through his left leg, sending him sprawling into the street.

Dean lay there for a second, trying to catch his breath and gather his wits. A young woman was lying next to him, her bike about to be run over by a pickup truck that would hit her next. Dean ignored the burning pain in his calf and leaped up to stop the truck inches from her. He wasn't fast enough to keep the truck from mangling her bike, though.

Dean squatted down to help the woman. Her top had ridden up in the fall, so he noticed her extravagant curves and had to remind himself that she was hurt. She was struggling to breathe and must've had the wind knocked out of her by the fall. He quickly adjusted her shirt to cover her full breasts.

"Take it easy," he said. "Don't struggle. That'll only make it worse."

Frantic chocolate brown-colored eyes stared up at him.

The impact of their eyes meeting hit him like a locomotive to the chest. _What the heck was that?_ Long hair the same color as her eyes fanned out under her head, and blood poured from huge cuts on her knee, elbow and hand. Dean winced, wishing he'd been more careful.

Tears spilled from her eyes.

Dean reached out to brush them away, his fingers tingling as they skimmed over her soft skin.

Her eyes widened, and she seemed to stop breathing altogether.

"Breathe," he said.

Anxious to get her away from the prying eyes of the crowd that he formed around them, Dean slid his arms under her and lifter her from the pavement.

She let out a startled gasp and then a moan as her injured leg bend around his arm. "W-what're you doing?"

"My friend Nattie runs the Beachcomber. She's a volunteer paramedic on the Gansett Fire Department. Let's go get you cleaned up. Did you hit your head?"

"No, just my arm and leg." She turned her palm up. "And my hand."

Deans' stomach roiled at the sight of her pulpy hand.

"God, I'm so sorry." Still carrying her, he crossed the street to the hotel. "I wasn't looking where I was going."

She struggled against his firm hold. "I need to get to work, so if you could just put me down. Please…"

"You can't go to work in this condition. You're bleeding."

"I have to go or I'll get fired."

Her twisting and squirming caused her round rear end to press against his belly, which sent a lurid message straight down to where he lived.

He groaned. "Do you mind holding still?"

"No one asked you to carry me," she retorted, apparently misinterpreting his groan.

"Look, I can't just put you down and send you on your way when you're bleeding all over the place. Let's get you patched up, and we'll see what's what."

"I'll get fired," she whispered, her eyes flooding with new tears.

"Where do you work? I'll call them and let them know you had an accident."

"They won't believe you. They're bastards."

"I can be very convincing." He took the steps leading to the Beachcomber two at a time, ignoring the shooting pain from his own injured leg. The porch was full of people having breakfast, and his passenger turned her face into his chest. At the maître d' stand; he asked for Nattie and was shown to her office off the lobby.

"Dean!" Smiling, Nattie jumped up from her desk chair. "I didn't know you were coming home!" She glanced at the woman in his arms, whose shaft of long hair hid her face. "And bringing a friend. Don't tell me you ran away and got married."

"Not exactly. We had a little accident on the street."

Nattie glanced at the woman's leg, saw blood and went into paramedic mode. "Bring her in here." She gestured to a sofa in her office.

"I don't want to get blood all over your sofa," the injured woman said.

Nattie grabbed some towels and spread them out.

As Dean put down his passenger, her breast bounced against his arm, sending another burst of lust coursing through him. Her hourglass figure reminded him of the old pinup girl posters his father had in the garage when Dean was a kid. Betty Boop had nothing on this woman.

With her uninjured hand, she brushed the hair back off her pretty face.

"Megan!" Nattie cried. "What happened?"

Megan gestured at Dean. "Someone wasn't watching where he was going and knocked me off my bike, which is now totaled."

Nattie tied back her shoulder –length blonde hair and broke out an elaborate first-aid kit from under her desk.

Dean hovered in the doorway to the small office. "Do you want me to call your work and let them know you'll be out today?"

"Just tell them I'll be late. I can't afford to miss a whole shift."

No way could she work today, but Dean wasn't going to argue with her—yet. "Where am I calling?"

"Ambrose's Gansett Inn, housekeeping department."

Smiling to himself, he reached for his cell phone and dialed the number from memory. Megan watched him, a startled expression on her face.

Keeping his eyes fixed on her, he asked for the housekeeping department. "Lana? Hey, it's Dean Ambrose."

Megan gasped from the double shock of hearing his name and having antiseptic applied to her gruesome cuts.

He whispered to Megan, "What's your last name?"

"Wright," she said through gritted teeth.

"Little Dean Ambrose, you devil," Lana said. "How in the hell are you?"

"I'm great. How are you?

"Can't complain too much."

"I wasn't on the island five minutes when I knocked one of your housekeepers off her bike."

"Still causing trouble, I see," Lana said with her trademark guffaw. "Which one?"

"Megan Wright. She's with me at the Beachcomber, and she's hurt pretty bad. Nattie is patching her up, but I don't think she can make it in today."

Megan scowled at him.

Lana released a deep sigh. "All right, if you say she can't work, I'll cover her shift."

"Thanks Lana. I'll be over to say hello, but don't tell my mom I'm here. She doesn't know I'm coming."

"She'll be over the moon, honey. Good to have you home."

"Thanks."

"That's not what I told you to say," Megan snapped the second he ended the call.

"You really think you can clean today with your hand ripped to shreds? Not to mention your arm and leg?"

"He's right, Megan," Nattie said as she covered the ugly wound on Megan's leg with a large gauze pad. "It'll hurt like hell in an hour."

"Already does," Megan said with a wince.

Her face had lost all color, her mouth was twisted with pain and Dean hated that he had caused her suffering. Despite her killer figure, an aura of fragility surrounded her, with the notable exception of her hands, which were rough and obviously used to hard work.

"You'll need to be real careful with that hand for a week or two," Nattie continued. "It won't take much to cause a bad infection if you get something in those open cuts."

Megan closed her eyes and tipped her head back against the sofa. "Oh my God," she whispered. "What am I going to do?"

 _Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God._ The refrain played over and over as Megan pondered the deep load of shit she was in—or, rather, the deep load of shit Dean Ambrose had pushed her into. From the second she'd looked up to see him leaning over her in the street, he'd seemed familiar to her. But with her injuries demanding her full attention, she'd been unable to put a name to the distinctive face. The nearly twenty years since he'd led the Gansett High School to the state wrestling championship had transformed him from a handsome boy into a stunning man.

Sandy-brown hair that curled over his collar, bright blue eyes, broad shoulders, defined pecs…After the way she'd ogled him in school, she couldn't believe she hadn't recognized him instantly. No, she'd had just enough time to call his parents bastards before she put two and two together to get Dean Ambrose.

Except for the dark circles under his eyes and the grayish tone to his complexion, the man was utter perfection. She knew from Mrs. Ambrose, who bragged about her five darlings incessantly, that Dean lived in Las Vegas, but travelled quite extensively. You'd never know it to look at him.

Back when he'd been five years ahead of her in school, he'd never even known she was alive. And now, the first time he saw her, really saw her, he got a full view of the ban of her existence—her overly large breasts. She wanted to die just thinking about it. Megan wished she could either disappear or find a way to make Dean Ambrose and his big, bulking presence go away.

She opened her eyes. Still there. Still hovering. Still gorgeous. "You don't have to hang out," she said. "I can take it from here."

"I'll see you home."

"That's not necessary."

"It's my fault this happened—"

"I was the one that hit you."

"Because I stepped in front of you."

"You got hit by the bike, Dean?" Nattie asked, turning to him. "Let me see."

Dean turned his leg to show a huge bruise forming on his calf.

Both women gasped.

"It's nothing," Dean stood and put on his backpack. "If you're ready," he said to Megan, "I'll take you home."

"And how do you plan to do that?"

"I'll carry you."

"What if I live on the other side of the island?"

"I'll get a cab."

"I don't need you to take custody of me! I'll figure something out the same way I always do."

Dean leaned in so his face was inches from hers. "You're injured because of me, and I'm going to help you. Now, we can do this the hard way or the easy way. What's it going to be?"

The air crackled between them as they stared each other down.

"You've got a lot of your mother in you, huh?"

He glowered at her. "Now you're just being mean."

"I've, ah, got to get back to work," Nattie said. "Come in for lunch while you're home, Dean."

"I will. Thanks for your help, Nat," Dean said without looking away from Megan.

When they were alone, Megan said, "You think just because you're a mighty Ambrose everyone has to do what you say, don't you?"

"I don't know what my family has done to piss you off, but since I haven't' lived here in almost twenty years, I'm pretty sure it has nothing to do with me."

She attempted to cross her arms in impatience and grimaced at the pain that radiated from her elbow. For a brief, sickening second, she wondered if she had broken it. Then it finally gave way and bent the way it was supposed to. All she could think about was how much money this lost day of work was going to cost her, if it didn't cost her the job itself.

"What's it going to be? I can stay right here all day." He leaned against the edge of Nattie's desk. "I'm on vacation."

 _Oh! He's so sanctimonious and infuriating!_ "Fine! If you have some sort of macho need to see this through to the gruesome finish, you can take me home, but for the love of God, take me out the back door so I'm not any more of a public spectacle."

"Fine."

"Fine."

Dean scooped her up and gave her a moment to get her injured arm and leg settled. "Okay?"

"Yeah," she said, releasing a long, deep breath.

While she once again hid her face against his faded yellow t-shirt, he carried her through the lobby and out the back door. He smelled of sporty deodorant and laundry detergent, and his steady heartbeat echoed in her ear. Too bad he was an Ambrose. Otherwise, she might be tempted to forget about her no-men-ever-again policy.

Megan directed him through a series of pathways behind the buildings that made up downtown Gansett.

"I used to play cops and robbers with my brothers back here."

"I used to drag trash bags heavier than I was to the dumpsters when my mother worked at these places." She let her gaze travel up over the strong column of his neck to focus on his jaw, which seemed tense. Megan wondered what it would be like to trail her lips along his whisker-sprinkled jaw…

He glanced down to catch her studying him. "What?"

Her cheeks heated with embarrassment. "Nothing."

After a long pause, she said, "Your leg has to be hurting. Why don't you put me down? I can walk." He surprised her when he did as she asked. The sudden weight on her injured knee sent pain shooting through her, and she cried out from the shock of it.

"Have we proven that you could use a lift?"

A surge of nausea took her breath away. "Yes," she whispered. "Please."

He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, surprising her again with the tender gesture. "I'm really sorry this happened."

Megan ventured a glance up at him and swallowed hard, taken aback by his intense gaze. "I know you are."

"I'll make it up to you."

"You don't have to. It was an accident."

"An accident that was my fault." He lifted her carefully and once again gave her a minute to settle her injured limbs before continuing on.

Megan directed him to her apartment over Paige's studio.

"Isn't this the Skaff place?" Dean asked.

She nodded. "My sister Paige is married to Kevin Skaff." As they reached the foot of the stairs, Megan realized her purse was still attached to the wrecked bike. "My bag! I never got it off the bike. My wallet, keys—"

"Take it easy." He carried her up the stairs to her door. "I'll track it down for you."

Megan tried to remember how much cash she'd had in her wallet. Twenty, maybe thirty dollars, but she needed every one of them. "The door isn't locked," she told him.

Somehow, he managed to carry her, open he door and get her inside without causing her any additional pain. She watched him take a quick survey of the small space and felt her defenses rise. No doubt he was used to much better, but she refused to be ashamed of the home she'd put together for herself and her son.

His eyes landed and settled on the baby toys stacked in the corner. "You're a mom?"

"My son Kyle is nine months old."

He lowered her to the tattered sofa she'd bought at a yard sale. "Where is he?"

"My sister watches him during the day. Oh God. The kids."

"Excuse me?"

"I take over for my sister at the daycare at three so she can teach her dance classes. She watches Kyle for me, and that's how I pay her back."

"I'll do it."

"What?"

"I'll watch the kids for you. How hard can it be?"

"Have you even changed a diaper?"

"I'm sure I have. Some time."

"Right. Look, I know you're probably some sort of Boy Scout—"

"Actually, I'm an Eagle Scout," he said with a proud smile.

"Of course you are, but you've really got to go now. Your family is expecting you—"

"They didn't know I was coming today."

Megan wanted to shriek in frustration. _Why can't he get the message and leave me alone?_ And then it hit her in a wave of sickening despair. "It's not going to happen," she spat at him.

"What are you talking about now?"

"Get out of my cabinets! What're you doing?"

"Looking for some painkillers and a glass." He produced a bottle of Advil and a glass of water and brought both to her.

"Thank you," she muttered after she swallowed the pills. "Now, please, just go, will you?"

But of course he sat on the coffee table, and Megan prayed the flimsy table would hold his two-hundred-pounds-of-pure-muscle frame. "So, what's not going to happen?"

"I know what you're after." She wanted to smack the amused expression off his face.

"And what is that?"

"You think if you're nice to me that you'll get something in return."

Amusement faded to bafflement. "Like what?"

"Don't be obtuse. I know you got a damn good look out there on the street, so you're hanging around hoping to get your hands—among other things—on Megan Wright's famous breasts."

He stared at her for a long, breathless moment. "That is so not true."

"And how are you different from every other man alive?"

"When I look at you, the first thing I see are gorgeous eyes that remind me of the way melted chocolate looks over vanilla ice cream. They're a rather interesting combination of brown and gold. Your mouth, when it's not twisted with cynicism and bitterness, is so lush and pretty that my personal fantasies—if I had them about you, that is—would definitely be focused there, not on what's under your t-shirt. As spectacular as they may be, I'm more of an ass-and-leg man myself."

Megan had never been more shocked in her life—or more aroused by words alone.

"Now that we've got that subject covered, let's talk money."

That brought her right back to reality. "What about it?"

"I want to pay for your lost wages."

"Absolutely not." She might be short on cash, but she still had her pride, and no one—especially someone named Ambrose—was going to take that from her.

"You have to let me help you, Megan. I know you can't afford to miss work."

"That's the least of it! If I miss more than one shift, they'll replace me. They need the job done. They don't care who does it."

"I believe we've established that I have some sway with the owners of the hotel and can prevent that from happening."

"Good for you. That still doesn't get my job done, and it won't help me when they decide who they're keeping for the winter and who gets laid off."

"Then I'll do the job for you until you're back on your feet."

Megan cracked up. "Sure you will."

"You don't think I can do it?"

She realized he was serious. "You have no idea what it even entails. How can you be so sure you can do it?"

"I'm capable of wrestling five days a week, and keeping a balanced diet and workout routine while on the road three hundred plus days a year. I think I can handle cleaning a few hotel rooms."

Megan studied his supremely handsome face. "All right." What else could she do? She couldn't afford to lose her job, so she had no choice but to let him help her. "Since you seem determined to make it up to me, I accept."

He flashed a victorious smile. "Excellent. Now what about the kids? Could I be your arms and legs there, too?"

"Have you ever changed a diaper? Seriously?"

"No," he confessed, quickly adding, "but I'm a fast learner. If you tell me what to do, I'll do it."

He'd be saving her life if he stepped in for her, but wait until he saw what the summer people were capable of doing to a hotel room. Just the idea of a mighty Ambrose stooping to the level of manual laborer at the hotel his family owned brought a smile to her face. She offered her uninjured hand. "Deal."

He shocked her again when he took her hand and brushed a soft kiss over the back of it. "Excellent. Now, let me go find your purse and see about getting you some lunch."


	2. Chapter 2

****A/N****

 **Thank you all for the reviews and PM's! I love reading them.**

Dean left his backpack at Megan's apartment and headed into town in search of her purse. He thought about the hour he'd spent with her and the terrible beating his ego had taken. Not that he was a playboy or anything, but as a rule he tended to be quite popular with women. He'd never met one so eager to be rid of him, and what could she possibly have against his parents? They ran a decent business and took care of their employees—at least he thought they did.

To be honest, he had no clue how their business—which had grown exponentially since Dean left the island—was run today. However, he planned to find out, and if Megan's opinion was to be believed, he might not like what he discovered.

Dean wasn't surprised to find Megan's mangled bike propped against a split-rail fence across the street from the Sand n' Sea novelty shop. Someone had used the cabbage roses growing through the fence to camouflage the bike. Her purse was still sitting in the basket that hung from what used to be the handle bars. He opened her battered wallet to find a twenty, a five and several ones still tucked inside. The sight of the undisturbed cash filled him with an odd sense of homecoming. In Vegas, the purse, the cash and what was left of the bike would probably be long gone by now.

Tucking her small purse into the tote bag, he tossed the mangled bike into a dumpster and planned to get her a new one.

Twenty minutes later, he returned to her apartment bearing cheeseburgers, fries and sodas. On the way upstairs, it occurred to him that she might be a vegetarian like Renee. Dean sighed. He was so tired of difficult, hard- to –please women. Could he, just once, encounter one who ate like a normal human being?

At the top of the stairs, he paused, uncertain as to whether he should knock, since she expected him to return. Then, remembering how prickly she'd been earlier, he rapped on the door and stepped into the living room to find the sofa empty.

"Megan?" He listened for a moment, worries that she might have tried to venture out on her own. "Megan?"

A muffled sound from behind a closed door caught his attention. He put the food and her bag on the kitchen table and went to the door. Knocking softly, he said, "Megan, are you okay?"

"Will you please just go away and leave me alone?"

"Why don't you come out here and we'll talk about whatever's bothering you?"

No reply.

"I got you something to eat. Come on out, Megan."

More silence.

He waited another minute before he knocked again.

The door clicked open, and she stared at him through tear-reddened eyes. Something odd and curious twisted deep inside him at the sight of her ravaged face. In that moment, he realized this was not going to be the stress-free vacation his doctor had ordered.

"Are you in pain?" he asked, alarmed by her distress.

"It's better since I took the pills." She took a step and grimaced.

"Let me help you."

Every muscle in her body tensed as he lifter her. Once she was pressed against him, she relaxed into his embrace. Her hair brushed against his face, and he absorbed the bewitching scent of summer flowers.

"W-what're you doing?"

"Nothing." He snapped out of the trance, carried her to the sofa and sat next to her. "How about you tell me what's got you so upset—other than the obvious, that is."

"Why do you care?"

Good question. "If I hadn't stepped off a curb into your path, you'd be at work rather than crying in your apartment."

"It was an accident. No one expects you to fix everything."

"We've already agreed that I'm going to help you until you're back on your feet, so why don't you start by telling me what's wrong."

As if it was taking too much effort to hold her head, Megan leaning it back against the sofa and expelled a long sigh. Her weary resignation tugged at him and made him want to fix her every problem—even the ones that weren't his fault. "I don't know how I'm going to take care of Kyle in this condition," she said in a small voice. "Ever since he came along, I've worried obsessively about losing my job and not being able to take care of him. I never imagined I'd get hurt so badly—"

"I'll take care of him. Whatever he needs, I'll do it."

She turned her head so she could see his face and maybe gauge his sincerity.

Their eyes connected, and Dean again felt the impact ricochet through him. He couldn't look away. Unable to resist the overwhelming urge to touch her, to offer comfort, he brushed the hair back from her tearstained face and dallied longer than he'd intended when his fingers sand into the fine silken strands.

"I don't want you to worry about anything."

Her eyebrows knitted in confusion. "Why?"

He combed his fingers through her hair, no longer because it was in her face but because he liked the thickness and texture. "I don't know," he said, bewildered by the undeniable pull.

The statement hung in the charged air between them. With every cell in his body fully aware of her, he couldn't recall a single other instance in his life when he'd been as powerfully drawn to another human being.

She licked her lips, but didn't look away.

Fascinated by the play of her tongue over her plump bottom lip, he shifted to hide his arousal.

"This isn't going to happen," she said

"So you've mentioned."

"I'm not interest."

His fingertips skimmed over her cheek.

A sharp intake of breath made a liar out of her.

"Okay," he said. His face hovered half an inch from hers. "Megan?"

Her lips parted, almost begging him to take what he knew she wanted as much as he did, even if she'd never admit it. "Your lunch is getting cold."

Glancing at the bag on the table, she broke the spell.

An odd twinge of disappointment warred with relief. Just as well. He had no business wondering what it would be like to sink into the lush sweetness of her mouth, to run his tongue over that sexy bottom lip, to see her chocolate colored eyes darken with desire…

He helped her get comfortable on the sofa and got up to find plates. "Ketchup?" he asked, glancing back to see her nod. Interesting that the same woman who couldn't tear her eyes off him a minute ago was now having trouble looking at him at all. "I hope you eat meat."

"I'll eat anything."

Dean smiled at the irony. If he wasn't careful, he might just start to like this guarded, closed-off, supposedly uninterested woman. "The foil wrappers kept the burgers warm, but the fries are kind of soggy."

"I don't care."

He delivered her plate and sat in a mismatched chair that had been old ten years ago. As they ate in silence, he took a closer look around the threadbare room. The furniture was worn and battered, but every surface was clean. Other than a few photos of an adorable baby posed with another baby of about the same age, and the toys stacked in the corner, the room contained no further clues to unlock the mystery of Megan Wright. Who was she? Who'd fathered her child? Where was he now? Did she love him? Did she miss him? Did he help her out financially?

Dean had never been so curious about a total stranger. Well, she was no longer a total stranger…Since he'd held her in his arms and carried her home; they'd probably graduated from strangers to acquaintances. Maybe by the time he nursed her back to health, they'd even be friends. He glanced over at her to find her expression blank, her eyes fixed on the scuffed wall. Okay, friends might be too much to hope for.

"Who's the other baby in the pictures?" he asked, settling on the safest of his long list of questions.

"My niece, Saraya. She's a month older than Kyle."

"That'll be nice for them to have someone to play with."

"I guess. If we're still here."

"Going somewhere?"

"I'd like to move to the mainland."

He took a bit of cold potato. "So why don't you?"

"I can't leave my mother. She has a lot of problems, but I dream about getting out of here. Better jobs and a fresh start where no one knows me there."

"Why would you want to live alone with your son in a place where no one knows you?"

She shot him a withering look.

He had no idea what she meant. He'd ask his sister Nikki. She knew everything that went on in Gansett.

A knock on the door startled them.

"Megan? Are you home?"

He dot up to answer it. A pretty, raven-haired woman looked at him with accusatory eyes. "Kevin came home and saw a man…" her brows furrowed. "Who are you and what're you doing in my sister's apartment?"

"Come in, Paige," Megan called.

Dean stepped aside to admit her, deciding that Paige must resemble their other parent, because he saw none of Megan in her. And whereas Megan's curves were extravagant, her sister had the lean, lithe build of a dancer. At the moment, she resembled a protective panther about to pounce.

Paige saw Megan and let out a gasp. "What happened?"

Dean extended his hand. "Dean Ambrose."

Paige just stared at him, and once again, Dean wondered why his last name drew such an odd, almost hostile, reaction from the Wright sisters.

He let his hand drop to his side. "We had an accident," he said, filling Paige in on the details.

She went to her sister for a closer look. "Oh God, Meg."

"I know."

"Don't worry," Dean said. "I'm taking care of her."

Paige's head whipped around, and the look she gave him could've cut glass. What was that all about? "I'll take care of my sister. You can go now."

"I tried that," Megan said. "He's quite difficult to get rid of."

For a brief instant, Dean thought he saw affection on her face, but it was gone before he could celebrate the breakthrough.

"It's my fault she's in this predicament, so I'll be covering for her at the hotel and at the daycare until she's able to get back to work," Dean said.

Paige looked form her sister to Dean and back again to Megan. "You can't be serious."

"What else can I do, P? I can't lose the hotel job, and you've got your dance classes. We need the help. I can barely move, let alone take care of four babies."

"How will you care for Kyle?"

"We were just discussing that when you arrived," Dean said.

"You'll move in with us until you're recovered," Paige declared.

"P," Megan said softly, "you know that's not a good idea. The way things are with you and Kevin right now, the last thing you need is me and Kyle underfoot."

Paige seemed annoyed that her sister had mentioned her marital problems in front of "the enemy."

Dean watched Paige's expressive face as she ran through the various options and came to the same conclusion he had—Megan needed him, and he was going to be there for her. Why he was so determined to help her was something he could ponder after he cleaned up the mess he'd made of her life.

"What does he know about taking care of babies?" Paige asked her sister.

"Not much, but I'll be there to guide him."

Paige turned to him. "I'll expect you downstairs at three, and if you screw up or hurt her any more than you already have, you'll answer to me. Are we clear?"

Dean refused to be intimidated by a tiny slip of a woman, but damn, she was kind of scary. "Crystal."

"Do you need anything?" she asked Megan.

"No, thanks. You'd better get back so Kevin can leave."

"I'll see you later." Paige brushed past Dean and slammed the door.

"Pleasant," he said to Megan.

"Protective."

"What did I ever do to the two of you?"

"It's not you…"

"Then who?"

Her open expression slammed shut faster than the door had. "No one."

Even though she refused to say so, Dean knew that someone in his family had done this woman wrong, and if it was the last thing he ever did, he'd find out whom. He had a bad feeling he wasn't going to like what he uncovered.

"Will you be alright for a little while?" Dean asked a short time later.

"Of course." Megan felt like she could sleep for a year.

"I need to do a couple of things, but I'll be back well before three."

"Okay."

"Do you need me to pick up anything while I'm out?"

"No, thank you."

"You look like you could use a nap. Would you like me to help you into bed before I leave?"

Megan's face heated with embarrassment. "I, um, I sleep here. The bed pulls out. Kyle sleeps in the bedroom."

"Do you want me to pull it out for you?"

"No, I'm fine."

"All right, then…"

He seemed both reluctant and anxious to go. Megan wondered if she'd really be back. Once he reconnected with his family in their big white house, he'd forget all about his charity case in town. The thought of never seeing him again made her sad and then mad-what did she care if he didn't 'come back?

"You're sure you'll be okay?"

"Yes! Just go!"

"You're really good for my ego, you know that? I've never had a woman so anxious to be rid of me."

"A little dose of humility might be just what you need."

He flashed her a smile that he no doubt convinced many a woman to part with her panties. The bolt of heat that chased through her surprised and angered her. Megan had no desire to be another notch on his belt, so why was she wondering what it would be like to be kissed by him, to be held in those strong arms when he was offering more than comfort?

"See you later," he said.

Watching him go, all broad shoulders, cocky arrogance and sure of himself and who he was in the world elegance, she should've hated him. She'd spend most of her life envying—and hating—the Ambrose's.

He had grown up with everything she'd ever wanted—a safe, secure home, a large, boisterous family and two parents who seemed utterly devoted to each other and their gaggle of kids. After working for his parents for the last eight years, Megan had discovered that Vinnie Mac and Linda saved their love and affection for their family, sparing very little on their employees, especially grunt workers like her.

Megan sat there for a long time, thinking about how it was possible that she could actually be somewhat attracted to an Ambrose of all people. The thought disgusted her "I refuse to be like every other female alive who falls swooning at the feet of the mighty Ambrose brothers," she said out loud, as if saying the words might bolster her flagging resistance.

When he'd sat so close to her on the sofa that she could feel the heat of his skin, she'd wanted to run as far from him as she could get. Only a man like him, who thought he could get away with anything, would sit that close to a woman he'd just met. That she'd felt so safe and cared for in his presence was yet another reason to be disgusted with herself. He didn't give a damn about her and he'd do well to remember that lest she be swayed by his irresistible appeal.

As she gritted her teeth and tried to move into a more comfortable position on the sofa, she decided road rash hurt way worse than broken bones, or torn ligaments. Even the ACL she'd torn in high school hadn't hurt like this.

Turning onto her uninjured side, she finally found relief from the pulsing pain in her arm and leg. She also discovered that Dean had left his backpack in her kitchen. Much to her dismay, that, too, brought relief.

Dean jogged the short distance from Megan's place to the town's main drag, looking for a cab. When he saw a beat-up woody station wagon heading his way, he smiled and flagged it down.

"Well, I'll be," Roman Reigns said as he pulled up to the curb and jumped out of the car to greet Dean with a bear hug. "Little Dean Ambrose. Are pigs flying in hell and no one told me?"

Dean laughed and hugged his father's best friend. Since Roman's thick black hair was just as long as was the last time they saw each other, Dean deduced that the man still refused to cut his hair. His beard was kept trimmed and his white smile was just as Dean remembered, even though he heard that he took his health more seriously after a cancer scare.

"You look great, Rome. Not one day older than when I last saw you."

His tanned face crinkled at the corners of devilish steel blueish gray eyes. "Aw shit, boy, y'always was a charmer, now, weren't ya?"

"So my mama tells me."

"Speaking of ya mama, she know yer here?"

"Not yet. That's where I'm heading now."

"You're traveling awful light."

"I left my bag with a friend. I'll grab it later."

Roman pushed a pile of discarded coffee cups, paper bags, and newspapers to the floor and flashed a sheepish grin as he gestured for Dean to join him in the front seat. "I sure am glad to see you. Your daddy's been giving me fits lately, talking about selling the place and retiring."

Dean wished he knew why his father selling Ambrose's saddened him so profoundly. His life, his home, his work were more than a thousand miles away. Why should he care if his parents decided to sell their business?

Dean and his siblings had grown up on those docks, had been weaned on his mother's famous sugar doughnuts and New England clam chowder in the marina restaurant, had held crab races on the pier and earned spending money working there as teenagers. The place was hardwired into their DNA, and the thought of someone else owning it felt so unbearably wrong.

"You really think he's serious?"

"Got himself an interested buyer and everything. I'd say he's pretty serious."

Dean sighed as Roman navigated the cab through the bustling downtown area on the way to North Harbor. Once they cleared town, the island's bucolic beauty unfolded like a red carpet, welcoming Dean home. Rolling fields of green, stonewalls, saltbox houses with crushed-shell driveways, rows of grapes waiting to be harvested, cabbage roses and jasmine. Dean rolled own the window to let the perfume of home drift into the car.

"No place like home," the older man said with a knowing smile. "You ever think about coming back?"

"No way. Things are good in Vegas, besides I'm gone all the time anyway."

"There is more to like than work, boy. Your daddy taught you that."

Truer words were never spoken. Somehow Vinnie Mac had managed to run a thriving business that demanded his full attention every summer without sacrificing his family. His five children always knew where they stood with him and that nothing was more important to him than their safety and happiness.

As Dean watched the road to home unfold around him, a sudden and powerful urge to recapture the magic of his childhood overtook him. He wanted to go back to the time before the island closed in around him like a prison. He wanted to go back to those endless summer days of fog and sun and boats and people. The startling realization shocked him to his core and sent his life plan out the window like a piece of paper sucked into Gansett's balmy breezes.

"You know," Roman said, "if just one of you kids showed the slightest interest in the place, he would never sell it."

Dean had no idea how to reply to that, so he said nothing. Approaching his parents' rambling home at the top of the hill, Dean caught his first glimpse of the action below: Ambrose's Gansett Inn perched on a hill of its own overlooking the marina and busy harbor. Adirondack chairs peppered the hotel lawn, and boats were packed three and four deep against the marina's main pier. After five years away, not one thing about the cluster of white buildings and docks looked different to Dean.

They pulled into the driveway of Dean's childhood home, and he reached for his wallet.

"Don't even think about it," Roman growled.

"Thanks for the lift." Dean shook Roman's hand. "It's good to see you."

"You, too." Roman held Dean's hand longer than necessary. "You know, sometimes life puts things in your path to show you where you belong." Roman fixed his eyes on the marina. "Don't miss what's right in front of you."

Dean had a sudden vision of the lovely but bitter woman who'd crossed his path earlier in the day and was filled with a profound sense that something huge was about to change.

Roman released Dean's hand and smiled at him as if he hadn't just rocked his world.

"See you around," Roman said.

"Yeah," Dean said. "See you."

He flipped the latch on the gate to his parent's two-story white colonial. Stepping into his mother's rose garden, he took a moment to appreciate the fragile multicolored blooms and intoxicating scent before continuing up the stairs to the wide front porch.

Since none of the year-rounder's believed in locks, Dean walked right into the house. "Anyone home?"

Silence and the aroma of potpourri greeted him.

Walking on gleaming hardwood floors, he passed a wall of school photos of the young Ambrose siblings on his way to the recently modernized kitchen that looked out over the marina and North Harbor. Dean remembered his father staring out those windows, taking in every nuance of the goings-on below. The employees often joked about Vinnie Mac spying on them from "The White House."

Opening the sliding screen door to the expansive back deck, Dean went outside. The Ambrose's had one of the best views of any home on the island, stretching as it did from the town beach on the far right to Ambrose's to the two neighboring marinas, Gansett Boat Works and North Harbor Yacht Club. The other two were known for being far more expensive and exclusive than Ambrose's, which prided itself on a family-friendly atmosphere. At the other end of the big, round harbor, a coast guard station and lighthouse guarded the western entrance.

Even though it was mid-June, the brisk sea breeze still held a bit of chill that was a welcome relief from the stifling Nevada humidity. Dean stood there for a long time pondering his eventful arrival on the island and the odd conversation with Roman. He cringed when he thought about Megan and how badly he'd wanted to kiss her. She made him anxious, as if he was constantly on the verge of saying or doing the wrong thing. Since he wasn't used to being so comfortable around a woman, he would deal with it by not spending any more time than necessary with her. He couldn't forget his plan to get back to the WWE as soon as possible.

The screen door at the front of the house slammed shut. Dean turned just as his sister Nikki came bounding through the sliding door to the porch. She let out a shriek and launched herself into Dean's arms.

Absorbing the blow, he took a step back to keep his balance, smiling at her enthusiastic greeting. As dark haired and fair as he was dark, Nikki was seven years younger, but they'd always been close.

Dean put her down and tugged on her sleek ponytail. "How goes it, brat?"

She play-punched him in the belly. "Don't call me that. I'm all grown up, or have you been gone so long that you forgot that?"

"To me, you'll always be thirteen with braces. Are you driving yet?"

"Hardy har har. I'm even having sex, but don't tell Mom."

Dean feigned a heart attack. The idea of Nikki having sex was way too much for him to handle, even if she was twenty-eight and engaged. "Spare me the gory details, please."

Nikki grinned. "If you think it's gory, maybe you're not doing it right."

"I'm so not having this conversation with you."

Laughing, she added, "As much and as often as we can."

Dean put his hands over his ears. "Lalalala. How's Dr. John?"

"Starting his internship at Belleview," she said with a sigh. "One more year." She punched Dean's shoulder this time. "Why didn't you tell us you were coming?"

"I didn't want mom going crazy cooking and cleaning."

"She does go nuts when one of the prodigal sons comes home."

"That's because we're special."

"Speaking of special, what's this I hear about you carrying Megan Wright all over town?"

Dean wasn't surprised that Nikki already knew about it. "I knocked her off her bike and hurt her pretty badly. I was helping her home."

"Aww, you're so good. She must've thought she'd died and gone to heaven with hunky Dean Ambrose coming to her rescue."

"Actually, she couldn't wait to be rid of me."

Nikki laughed—hard. "Bet that doesn't happen very often." She wiped the laughter tears from her eyes. "You and Megan Mattress—mom would blow a gasket."

Shocked, Dean took a step back, as if she'd punched him for real. "What did you call her?"

"You've never heard that?" Nikki seemed pained.

"I don't remember her at all. She was younger than me."

"Five years. She was in Elias's class." Nikki winced. "Sorry to just toss that out there. I figured you'd heard it before."

"Why do they call her that?"

She rolled her eyes. "Come on, Dean, use your imagination. Rumor has it she kept quite 'busy' during high school. The football team was supposedly very fond of her."

Shock bolted through Dean, pinging around inside him and settling into an ache in his chest. "I don't believe that," he said softly. Nothing in his brief association with her had given him the impression she was loose or easy. In fact, she'd been the exact opposite with him, and he didn't think that was only because of his name. No, there'd been more to it than that.

"Now that I think of it, I haven't known her to be with any guy since school. But when Elias and I were in high school, all the boys were wild about Megan Mattress and her spectacular boobs."

Dean turned to study the harbor and process the information.

"Don't tell me you didn't notice them," she joked. "They're quite something."

He turned back to her, working to keep his anger in check. Why he was so determined to defend Megan wasn't something he cared to think about just then. "There's more to her than that."

"You're probably the only guy alive who'd say that after meeting her. I see your honorable tendencies haven't been diminished by your years in Vegas or on the road."

"What's wrong with being honorable?"

"Not a thing. Besides, you've got bigger problems. Mom's gonna flip out when she finds out you're here. She'll be fixing you up with every unattached bimbo in town."

"What? Why?"

"Her grandchild clock is ticking like an atom bomb since Maryse provided Auntie Victoria with twins. Mom is desperate, and she won't be satisfied until all four of you are married and pumping out the babies."

Just the idea of it gave Dean the willies, but event hat unsettling thought couldn't clear away the overwhelming sadness over what Megan must've gone through. No wonder she was so anxious to move into anonymity off the island.

"How come you get a pass on grandkids?" Dean asked.

"Mom knows John and I are years away from that."

"Where is she anyway?"

"Doing the payroll at the hotel. She'll be home in a little while, or you can catch her there."

"Speaking of babies, what do you know about the father of Megan's?"

"Not a thing. She refuses to say who it was. Word on the street is that it was Corey Graves."

"And people just believe that? You just believe it?"

Nikki had the good grace to look chagrined. "Well, when a person has a certain reputation-"

"Whether it's earned or not."

"When she wouldn't name the baby's father, people speculated. She cleaned Corey's house for years." Nikki referred to one of the newer town councilmen. "Suddenly that stopped. A few months later, she started to show. People talked."

Dean shuddered at the thought of pretty, bodacious Megan getting it on with stick Corey and his bleached blonde hair. "No way."

"You asked. I'm just telling you what people say."

"This town needs to get a life. How can you stand it? Don't you ever get sick of it?"

"It doesn't faze me. As long as they aren't talking about me, what do I care?"

"Poor Megan." The words fell from his mouth before he could stop them.

Nikki stared at him. "She got to you, didn't she? And now you're wondering what it would be like—"

"I'm not wondering anything. I just wanted to know her story."

"You should probably keep your distance, Dean. She's had a lot of trouble in her life. Her mother is doing three months in prison for writing bad checks, and her father split years ago. Her sister was a wild child, too. They're not our kind of people."

"That sounds so snobby. She can't help who her parents are anymore than we can."

"We got a lot luckier than she did."

"This is exactly why we shouldn't throw stones."

She went up on tiptoes to kiss his cheek. "You're too good. Just be careful around her."

He'd already thought the same thing himself, albeit for different reasons. However, much to his dismay, knowing what he did now, he was even more intrigued by her than he'd been before.

"You deserve better than someone who's been around the block a few dozen times."

"You don't even know her."

Nikki raised an eyebrow. "And you do?"

While he couldn't argue with that, his gut hold him Nikki was wrong about Megan.

"Will you be around for dinner?" Nikki asked.

"I've got some stuff to do."

"Come by my place for a beer if you're in town."

"I will."

She hugged him again. "It's nice to have you home. I've got to get back to the clinic."

"See ya, brat."

"Don't call me that!" she shot over her shoulder as she went back inside.

Dean rested his hands on the rail and fixated on the harbor. When he woke up in the airport hotel that morning, he'd never heard of Megan Wright. How was it possible that just a few hours later she was all he could think about?


	3. Chapter 3

****A/N****

 **Thank you again for the reviews and the PM's. They truly make my day.**

If the house was his mother's domain, Vinnie Mac ruled over the barn-shaped garage. Linda referred to the barn as 'the quicksand,' because nothing that went in there to be fixed was ever seen again.

Dean navigated his way through the chaos, batting at spider webs on the way to the back corner, his heart pumping with excitement when he saw the white sheet. Just as he'd left it. A couple of old bicycles blocked his path, and Dean took a quick look to see if either of them would be suitable replacements for Megan.

Dismissing them both, he said, "I'll get her a new one. That'll make her good and mad." He couldn't say why the idea of making her mad was so appealing, but he like the spark of life that lit up her chocolate brown eyes when he challenged her.

Tugging on the sheet, he uncovered his first love—an orange Honda 250 motorcycle he'd bought from Roman two months after he got his license. He mother had flipped out—and ripped Roman a new one—but Vinnie Mac had urged Linda to 'let the boy be.'

The bike was already old when Dean bought it, but with his father's help, he'd lovingly restored it. He ran his hand over the gas tank, and came to a rest on the leather seat. "What'd ya say, old girl? Still got some life left in you?"

Dean wheeled the motorcycle out of the barn to the crushed-shell driveway and was checking the oil when his mother came up behind him, letting out a shriek that nearly stopped his heart.

"Jeez, Mom." He stood up from the crouch he'd been in and hugged her. She was petite, with the same dark hair coloring that Nikki had inherited. "You scared the hell out of me."

"Oh," she said, "look at you."

"Don't get all mushy."

"You get more handsome every time I see you." She caressed his cheek, her sharp blue eyes zeroing in on him. "But why do you look so tired and thin?"

He smiled to himself. Her children hadn't called her Voodoo Mama for nothing. "Too much work, not enough fun."

"We'll have to see about fixing you that while you're home. How long can you stay?"

"A while," he said, intentionally vague. The Ambrose kids had also learned a long time ago not to give her time for scheming.

"Don't tell me you're taking that old rust bucket for a ride." She shuddered. "I hate that thing. I was always so certain you were going to kill yourself on it."

Dean flashed his most charming grin. "There's not one spec of rust on this bike, and I've got to get around somehow."

"Use my car. I just got it out of the shop. I can walk to the hotel or grab a ride into town when I need one."

Dean glanced at the yellow VW Bug convertible in the driveway. "Not in this or any other lifetime, mother."

"Oh come on! It's not that bad."

"Um, yes, it is."

She let out a gasp. "What in the name of God did you do to your leg?"

"I had a little accident in town." He told her about his encounter with Megan. "So, I'll be staying over there, helping her out with the baby and covering her shifts at the hotel until she's back on her fee."

"You can't work as a chambermaid! What will people say? You're an Ambrose!"

Had he ever noticed before that his family thought they were better than other people on the island? Had Megan turned into that, too? Was that why she had such a beef with his parents? "So what? She can't afford to lose the job, and it's my fault she's hurt."

"She won't lose her job. We'll get someone else to fill in."

"She doesn't want that. I'm taking care of it for her."

"No son of mine—"

Dean held up his hand to stop her. "Just because we own the place doesn't mean we're better than anyone else. I'm filling in for her, and that's the end of it. Do we still have those old sleeping bags with the camping stuff?" leaving her fuming in the driveway, he went back into the garage and found the sleeping bags right where he expected them to be, zipped into large plastic bags to protect them from mold.

"What're you doing with that?"

"I'm sleeping on Megan's floor for a couple of nights so I can help her with the baby."

"This is insanity, Dean. What will people say? She has a sister—"

"Who has a family of her own to care for. Don't worry; you'll still get plenty of time to fuss over me while I'm home."

He strapped a sleeping bag to the back of the motorcycle while his mother watched him. Pretending not to notice her frosty glare, he tinkered with spark plugs and connections before straddling the bike to kick-start it. The engine sputtered and died. He tried twice more before it roared to life with a deafening backfire.

Dean couldn't wait to open up the bike on the island's winding roads, just like he used to.

"Where are you going?" his mother hollered over the roar.

"To see Dad and then back to Megan's. I'll be by tomorrow."

"Dean! Wait! We need to talk!"

He turned the bike around and gunned it, sending pieces of crushed shell flying behind him.

"You forgot your helmet!"

Flashing a grin over his shoulder, he pretended he couldn't hear her. Just like old times.

As Dean coasted down the long, winding hill that led to the marina, he was glad he hadn't bothered to cut his hair before he left Vegas. The wind rushing through it took him right back to high school, and the wild burst of freedom reminded him of a time before life became so complicated.

His thoughts inevitably turned to Megan and what Nikki had told him. They'd grown up just a few miles apart, but light-years separated them. While he'd been the hometown hero, she'd been mocked and ridiculed and God knows what else because of something she could neither help nor change.

"It's not up to you to right all those wrongs," he muttered to himself. But for some reason, he wanted to do just that. She'd stirred something primal in him and touched a part of him he hadn't even known existed. The notion both excited and discomforted at the same time.

Even as he decided he should keep his distance, he knew he wouldn't. In fact, as soon as he said a quick hello to his father, he'd be heading right back to her. Surely the reaction he'd had earlier was the result of the accident and the ensuing burst of adrenaline. Once he saw her again, everything would be back to normal, or at least he hoped so.

Dean zipped into the marina and parked next to one of the dumpsters. Thanks to his six-foot, four –inch height, Vinnie Mac's thatch of wiry gray hair stood out amid the chaos on the main dock. Because the word sunscreen was not, and had never been, in his vocabulary, he was already as tan as most people were by the end of the summer. He wore a blue t-shirt with a faded silk screen of a wide-mouthed bass and bleached out denim shorts with his trademark boat shoes.

Dean watched his father interact with kids, customers and employees as he shouted out orders and engaged in a series of hand signals to direct incoming boaters while deftly fending off another arriving boat. Vinnie Mac choreographed the scene with the finesse of a dispatcher and the authority of a drill sergeant.

Amused, Dean waited for his father to finish tying up the newcomer. Farther down the main dock, the marina's second-in command, Luke Harper, wrestled with a throttle-happy power boater who'd put speed ahead of safety and skill.

Luke, a high school classmate of Dean's, had worked at Ambrose's for more summers than Dean could count. Dean watched him corral the out of control boat without any damage to the others around it. The crowd on the dock gave Luke a round of applause that earned a scowl from the boat's captain.

Vinnie Mac had turned his attention to a crew of kids he'd no doubt recruited from eh boats who were shucking a bushel of corn for the restaurant. He said something that had them all laughing. Pulling a fly swatter from his back pocket, Vinnie Mac took care of the early season bees that were bugging the kids and returned the swatter to his pocket.

Patting one of the kids on the head, Vinnie Mac turned and noticed his son standing on the sidelines waiting for him. His face lit up with pure joy. Dean's throat tightened as his father made his way across the pier. He loved no on more that then giant of a man who'd raised him with a gently but steady hand. His father stopped, gave him a measuring once over and then shook his head as if he couldn't believe his eyes. Behind the dark sunglasses, Dean suspected he'd find tears.

"What a nice surprise," Vinnie Mac said softly, framing his son's face with callused, work-roughened hands the size of dinner plates. Their father's effusive love had once mortified his sons, but Dean had long ago outgrown his aversion. "What's wrong with you?"

Dean laughed, not one bit surprised that his father could also take a quick look and know something wasn't quite right. "Apparently, I've been burning the candle."

"Well, you look like hell." He slung a thick arm around Dean's shoulders. "Buy you a late lunch?"

"Thanks, but I already ate. I actually have to get back to town." He gave his father a quick recap of what'd happened earlier with Megan.

"You can't be serious about covering for her at the hotel."

"She can't work for a few days, and she's petrified about losing the job."

"We can see that doesn't happen, son. We're not ogres."

"It's a pride thing. Besides, how hard can it be to clean a couple of rooms?"

Vinnie Mac snickered. "Harder than you probably think. Mom will pitch a cow over this."

"Believe me, I've already gotten an earful."

Vinnie Mac nodded to the bike. "Got the old girl out of mothballs, huh?"

"She's running great."

"I take her out for a spin every now and then to keep her lubed up and ready. Just in case."

"In case of what?"

"In case you come home."

The stark simplicity of his father's statement tugged at Dean's heart. "I'm sorry it's been so long."

"No matter. You're here now. For how long?"

Dean took a long look around at the marina, taking in the peeling paint, the sagging roof on the main building that housed the office and restaurant, and the broken windowpane in the gift shop. Seeing his father made Dean forget all about his vow to get in and get out as quickly as possible.

"As long as it takes."

Megan slept deeper than she had in years. She dreamed about Dean Ambrose. They were on a sailboat, and he was at the helm. The sun shone down upon them, the warmth cooled by an ocean breeze that powered the sleek wooden boat. He wore only a bathing suit tied low on narrow hips. A light dusting of hair covered his muscular chest and rippled abs, forming a tantalizing trail into his suit.

He caught her watching him and smiles, dazzling her with his beautiful face and twinkling eyes. That he—Dean Ambrose, local hero and golden boy—seemed so happy to be with her was nothing short of miraculous.

A nagging voice in the back of her mind warned her to be careful. Surely a man who could have any woman he wanted wouldn't really be interested in her. But no one else was around just now. For however long he chose to stay, he was hers, and she wanted him more than she'd ever wanted anything. Knowing he had the power to shatter her did nothing to quell the wave of longing. As if she was outside herself watching someone else, Megan stood up in the boat's roomy cockpit and went to him.

He slipped an arm around her shoulders and drew her in close. His hand caressing her sun warmed skin sent desire darting through her.

Megan looked up at him, the yearning no doubt apparent on her face.

He studied her for a long moment before he lowered his head and brushed his lips over hers in a tentative kiss, keeping his eyes focused on hers.

Hooking her hand around his neck, she brought him back for more.

His open mouth came down on hers as if he'd been dying to kiss her forever. He traced the outline of her mouth with his tongue before delving deeper to engage in a fierce duel with hers. Megan met him thrust for thrust.

Without surrendering her mouth, he released his hold on the wheel and wrapped his arms around her, bringing her in tight against his instant arousal. The unattended sails flapped in the breeze as the boat foundered.

The desire was so intense, she didn't even care that her breasts were now pressed against his chest. A moan escaped their joined lips, and Megan wasn't sure if it came from him or from her. What did it matter? 

From outside the screen door, Dean heard the moan and rushed in to find her sleeping—and clearly dreaming. Her hair formed a wild halo around her face. Her lips were pursed and moving.

Transfixed by the sight of her, he dropped the sleeping bag and the extra bandages he'd brought just inside the door and went to her. She moaned again, and he wondered if she was in pain. When her legs fell open and her hips thrust upward, he went hard as stone.

"God," he muttered, worried that she would reopen her wounds if she kept thrashing about. Sitting next to her on the sofa, he put his hands on her shoulders to hold her still. "Megan, wake up. You're dreaming."

"Mmm."

 _She has the prettiest mouth I've ever seen._ Before he could indulge in a fantasy about what it would be like to press his own mouth to her plump, pink lips, she lifted her hips again.

"Megan."

She shocked him when she hooked her uninjured arm around his neck and dragged him down to her. What had been a brief fantasy only a second ago quickly became reality as her lips opened under his and her tongue thrust into his mouth with wild abandon.

Dean knew he should stop her—that was; if he could think clearly enough to do anything but hang on for the ride. Besides, if he fought her, he risked hurting her, and he'd already hurt her enough. He cupped her soft cheek, and his tongue met her ardent thrusts, feasting on her sweet flavor.

Time seemed to slip away as he gave in to the attraction that had simmered from the second their eyes first met. Immersed in the scent of summer flowers that came from her hair, he had no idea if he kissed her for five minutes or an hour. All he knew was he didn't want it to end—ever.

He knew the exact instant she woke up and realized she was no longer dreaming. Her body went tense and rigid, and her ardent mouth stilled.

Dean pulled back to stare at her, astounded by the kiss, the emotion, the desire. Brushing the hair off her forehead, he watched surprise, embarrassment, anger and longing dance across her face. The longing caught him off guard and filled him with a brand-new kind of desire—to give her everything and anything she wanted.

"What're you doing?" she finally asked.

Dean cleared his throat. "I was trying to wake you up, and you kissed me."

"I did not kiss you!" But then she seemed to realize her arm was still hooked around his neck. Her face flushing with color, she released him.

"Ah, yeah, you did." He leaned in again so his lips lingered just above hers. "And guess what else? You liked it."

"You don't know that."

"I can tell when the woman I'm kissing is enjoying it."

Disgust twisted her pretty mouth into a sneer. "Oh, you and all your experience, of course you can tell."

He continued to hover just above her, amused by her disdain. Why did he get such a kick out of pushing her buttons?

Her hand landed on this chest to keep him from getting any closer. "Would you please move? I need to get up."

"And go where?"

"To the bathroom, if you must know."

Rather than get up, he slid an arm under her legs and lifted her.

"Put me down!" She winced from the pain of her sore knee pending over his arm. "I can get there on my own."

"But you don't have to." He delivered her to the door and waited while she got her footing. The agonized look that crossed her face made him ache.

"I'll be out in a minute. Feel free to be gone by then." Leaning on her uninjured hand, she used the wall as a makeshift crutch.

Dean closed the door and waited outside, leaning his head back against the wall in a failed attempt to calm his overheated body while reliving the kiss that had blown his mind. So much for his plan to keep his distance and not get involved. With one kiss, he was already more involved with her than he'd been with any other woman.

The bathroom door opened. "I need to get over to my sister's."

"I know."

Her eyes landed on the sleeping bag he'd left by the front door. "What's that?"

"A sleeping bag."

She glared at him. "No kidding."

"You might need help with the baby during the night."

"You can't stay here. No way."

"I'm not leaving you to fend for yourself and Kyle with one working hand."

"It's not up to you to fix this! I don't know who you think you are, but you're not bombing into my life and barking out orders—"

"I won't be responsible for you dropping your son or something else happening to him because I was clumsy."

"It's not your responsibility! It's mine. I'll take care of Kyle the way I always have—by myself. The last thing I need is everyone in this town knowing you're staying here."

The mulish set to her chin amused him, and apparently, he did a poor job of hiding it.

"What's so funny?"

"You are when you get all…" He waved his hand. "Worked up."

Her eyes spit fire at him. "I am not worked up. I'm pissed!"

"So I gathered. Here's the deal—either I can find a place to toss my sleeping bag inside or I'll sleep on the deck so you can tell all these 'people' you're so worried about that I didn't' actually stay here. Believe me; I've slept in worse places under the Gansett stars."

"I want you to go back to wherever you came from and leave me alone."

The emphatic statement hurt more than it should have. "As soon as you're able to care of yourself and Kyle, I'll be gone."

"Are you always this arrogant and pushy?"

Dean thought about that. "Yeah, I guess so."

"It might work with other people, but it does nothing for me."

"Duly noted."

"Now you're making fun of me."

"I am not." He glanced at his watch. "We have to go. I don't need another Wright woman screaming at me. One is plenty."

"Ugh, you're insufferable."

"So I've been told. You mi9ght want to change our shirt. There's blood on it."

Shooting him a dirty look, she hobbled to the bedroom.

"Need some help?"

"No!" The door slammed shut.

She might've like kissing him, but she still didn't want him around.

Megan leaned against the closed bedroom door. Oh my God. Her mind raced at a frantic speed. I had a sexy dream about Dean Ambrose, and then I all but attacked him. If he'd heard what people say about me, now he'll believe t.

Of course he'd believe it. Why wouldn't he? Better yet, why should I care what he believes? It's not like he plans to stick around after I recover. He'll be back to his life in Vegas and on the road and I'll still be here working for his parents and living my life. He's nothing to me.

Except, she thought as she wrestled her way painfully into a clean t-shirt, he seemed to like kissing me. He'd seemed equally affected by the sensual kiss. She hadn't missed the impressive bulge in his shorts or the heated look in his eyes. Running her fingers through her hair, she caught a hint of his cologne and brought her hand to her nose to breathe in the spicy scent that would now forever remind her of him.

"Stop it," she hissed to her haggard reflection. "The last time you got carried away by a man's empty promises, you ended up a single mother. Don't be a fool again. He'll take what he can get from you and hit the road, just like they all do. Nothing about him is different or special."

Even as she said the words, however, she knew they weren't entirely true. He had already proven he was different by insisting on helping her as she recovered. As for special? She'd have to wait and see, but she would not—could not—allow herself to expect anything from him.

She refused to ever again risk her heart for a man, especially one who had the power to crush her while moving on with his own life as if she'd never existed.

Never again.

Hours later, Dean carried Megan and the wriggling Kyle back up to their apartment. Despite being peed and puked on, Dean had done an admirable job, with her verbal assistance, of taking care of four babies ranging from nine to twelve months old. To say he'd never changed a diaper before, he'd caught on fast, and Kyle had taken an instant shine to him.

Megan held Kyle with her good arm while Dean navigated the stairs and play-bit the fingers Kyle put in his mouth. Dean had barely made eye contact with her all afternoon. Was it because of the kiss or something else? Had he heard what people said about her?

Her stomach ached and her palms grew damp. How she longed to be just a regular girl with nothing that made her different, without the suitcase full of troubles she dragged behind her. Sighing, she wished she could somehow lose the suitcase.

"why the sigh?" Dean asked as he lowered her and Kyle to the sofa.

She ventured a glance up at him to find him watching her.

"Does something hurt?"

My heart. My stomach. My knee. "No."

He scooped up Kyle as if he'd been doing it all the boy's life. "What come first? Dinner or bath?"

"I can take it from here. Why don't' you go visit your parents?"

"Are you going to keep this up all night?"

"Just until you get the hint that I don't want you here."

"You don't? I'm shocked and hurt."

"Shut up."

He shielded Kyle. "Don't talk that way in front of the child."

The look that she sent him could have cut glass.

"I'll repeat the question: what comes first, dinner or bath?"

Through gritted teeth, she said, "Dinner or you'll have to do the bath twice."

"Got it." He glanced down at the stains on his t-shirt. "I should probably change first. I reek."

Megan couldn't help but notice how he held Kyle just right, propped on his hip with a strong arm protectively around him. "You, ah, might want to wait until after dinner and the bath. It can get a little messy."

"This baby thing is not for the faint of heart, is it?" he asked, playfully scowling at Kyle, who clapped his hands.

"Which is why you shouldn't get involved."

"Too late." He flashed a charming smile that made her mad all over again. "Well, all righty, buddy, let's get to it."

Following Megan's directions, Dean kept up a steady stream of animated chatter that held her son captivated in his high chair. Dean used a variety of voices and hand gestures to keep Kyle's attention as he opened a jar of sweet potatoes to go with the tiny bites of leftover chicken.

"Just put the chicken on the tray," she said. "He eats that with his fingers, but you'll have to feet him the potatoes."

"I can do that," Dean said, making a funny face at Kyle.

Watching Dean's intense focus on the task of wrestling spoonful's of orange baby food into Kyle, she wondered if he gave everything he did the same level of attention. The thought made her body tingle from head to toe.

He glanced at her. "What? Am I doing it wrong?"

Clearing her throat, she said, "No, you're doing fine."

Kyle took advantage of Dean's break in concentration to grab the spoon and fling orange glob, which landed with a loud splat on Dean's cheek.

Megan dissolved into giggles.

Kyle followed suit as Dean glowered at him.

"You think that's funny, do you?" he asked, dabbing sweet potatoes on Kyle's nose.

The baby laughed, and Megan's heart contracted with something strange and foreign and altogether uncomfortable. That's when she realized she could warn herself off this man until the end of time and still find him irresistible, especially when he was displaying such tender kindness toward her son.

"I think I got more on him than in him," Dean said when the jar was finally empty. The floor and wall around the high chair resembled a war zone, and both 'men' were covered in orange slime.

"See why the bath comes after dinner, rather than before?"

"Your mommy is very wise," Dean said to Kyle as he freed the squirming baby from the high chair. "But you already know that, don't you? Let's hit the tub, my man."

Irritated that she couldn't bather her son herself, she said, "Just be careful. He's like a slippery eel once he gets wet."

"We'll be fine."

"Don't let the water get too hot."

"I won't, don't worry."

"Towels are in the cabinet."

"We'll find them."

She wished she could see them working out the logistics. Instead, she listened to Dean's low voice as he talked to Kyle, who let out an occasional screech or a squeal. Bath time was his favorite part of the day, and she smiled, imagining the mess Dean would have to clean up when they were done.

Despite being badly injured, she had smiled more that day than she had in years. It was hard to stay dour with Dean's cheerful, upbeat personality around to lighten things up.

The screen door opened, and Paige stuck her head in. "Just checking to see if you need anything?"

Kyle chose that moment to shriek.

Paige glanced at the bathroom. "What's going on?"

"He's giving Kyle a bath."

Her sister's eyes widened. "Seriously?"

"Listen," Megan said.

The distinctive rumble of Dean's voice mixed with Kyle's baby patter and some serious splashing.

"Well," Paige said grudgingly, "that's nice of him."

"Yes, it is." Megan wasn't sure why she felt compelled to defend Dean.

"I hope you're not getting all…"Paige waved her hand. "Caught up."

"Save the sisterly advice. You have enough of your own problems. Stay out of mine."

"Mark my words, Megan. That guy is trouble." In a hissing whisper, she added, "Remember what Elias Ambrose's friend did to you? Elias knew he was lying and did nothing about it. That's his brother in there. His brother and what their mother did to Mom!"

"Stop! None of that has anything to do with him." Megan's heart raced at the reminder of a long-ago time she never wanted to think about again. "Now please…go."

After Paige stalked out the door, Megan took several deep breaths to calm down. Her hands shook as the memories from that horrible year of high school came flooding back.

When Dean emerged, dripping wet, from the bathroom holding Kyle wrapped in his Mr. Froggie towel, Megan forgot all about the past and returned her son's gummy smile. While Kyle had clearly won the battle in the tub, Dean looked awfully pleased with himself, even with water dripping from his hair to his face to his soiled t-shirt.

As she watched him bounce Kyle up and down on his hip, Megan decided Paige was right about one thing: Dean Ambrose was trouble. Big, big trouble.


	4. Chapter 4

****A/N****

 **Thank you for the love on this story. I have it all planned out, it's just a matter of getting it all typed up. Please be patient going into the weekend, as I only have computer access at work. Thank you all again, and keep the review coming!**

Megan talked Dean through dressing Kyle and making his bedtime bottle but insisted she could hold him while he drank it. Taking one of the boy's pudgy hands, Dean rubbed it softly against his own face. "Gentle hands. Mommy has boo-boos. Be very nice."

Kyle's tiny eyebrows knitted with concentration as he listened to Dean's instructions. When Dean released his hand, Kyle mimicked the gentle caress to Dean's cheek.

Dean's eyes went soft, and his lips quirked with amusement. "Good boy." He lowered Kyle to Megan and helped her find a comfortable position before he handed the bottle to Kyle.

"Thank you." Her heart suddenly felt too large for her chest, her skin too tight for her body, her lungs compressed from the effort to draw air. To think that ten hours ago, she'd never met him and now he was feeding and bathing her son with the same care he'd no doubt show his own child. She couldn't process it.

As she held Kyle, Dean cleaned up the mess around the high chair and restored order to the kitchen. Even though he was tall and broad-shouldered, he moved with an easy grace. Rippling muscles under a snug t-shirt had Megan licking her lips and remembering what it had felt like to kiss him. He bent over to wipe the baseboard and his shorts tightened over this taunt rear end. Infused with heat that made her skin tingle with desire, Megan looked away.

"I need to make a quick phone call," he said when he was done. "And grab a shower. Are you sure you're all right?"

Megan skimmed her lips over Kyle's soft, damp hair. "We're fine."

Dean withdrew his cell phone from his pocked. "Be right back."

She imagined he probably had a girlfriend in Las Vegas waiting to hear from him. The thought filled her with irrational jealousy. Paige's warning came rushing back to her. Before she could get too mad with herself for being stupid and jealous, Dean returned and stashed the phone in his backpack. He approached them, casting a downward glance at Kyle, who was beginning to doze off. "He's so cute," Dean whispered, smoothing the baby's fine hair into place. "And so good."

"He really is." Unnerved by the intimate whisper and the natural, gentle caress he'd bestowed upon her son, Megan kept her eyes on Kyle. "If I had to go it alone, I definitely got the right kid."

"Why are you? Going it alone, that is?"

After a long awkward pause, she finally ventured a glance up to find his cool blue eyes trained on her. "That's, um, a long story."

He flashed that irresistible grin. "Good thing we've got all night. You can talk to me through the window while I'm sleeping on the deck."

Before she could tell him she didn't talk about Kyle's father—with anyone—Dean grabbed his backpack and shut the bathroom door behind him.

Megan closed her eyes and tried to calm her racing heart and mind. Nothing good would come of the crush she could feel developing. His attention toward them was temporary, and she needed to remember that. She couldn't let Kyle get attached to a man who wouldn't be around in a few days. The bottle fell from Kyle's slack lips, and he snuggled in deeper. Normally, she'd transfer him to his crib at this point, but she feared she might drop him. She hated to admit Dean might be right about something.

While she waited for him to help her, she kept her eyes closed and listened to him singing Billy Joel in the shower. Smiling for the umpteenth time that day, she floated on an unusual could of contentment with her baby asleep in her arms and a sexy guy singing in her shower.

Dean opened a bottle of shampoo and breathed in the scent of summer flowers that had captured his attention each time he'd been close to Megan. Immersed in the fragrance, he imagined her reclined in a field of wildflowers with a daisy tucked behind her ear and a come-hither smile directed at him. In his fantasy scenario, she was relaxed and untroubled. She gazed at him with none of the usual bitterness. He'd like to see her like that—carefree, happy and content.

Just the idea of it sent a surge of desire darting through him that settled in his groin. "Why her?" he whispered urgently into the shower's steady flow. "Why now?" Nothing in this past history with women had prepared him for the day he'd meet one who made him want to step off the treadmill for a closer look, to find out what might be possible.

Maybe it was because the women he usually dated always wanted something from him. When they discovered he'd never been married and had enjoyed a successful professional life, he became doubly appealing to them. Renee had been the latest in a long string of women who'd used him to gain a leg up. They used him, he used them and no one got hurt. The hassle-free arrangements had always been just fine with him.

Now he'd found one who needed everything but wanted nothing from him. Yet he wanted more of her, especially now that he'd experienced the soft sweetness of her kisses. He wanted to do things for her because she'd never ask him to the way others always did. The more he gave, he more Megan would protest, and the idea of fighting with her filled him with anticipation rather than the usual dread of the unfortunate confrontations that ended the arrangement du jour.

When it came right down to it, she wasn't even his type. He tended to go for women who were confident in their sexuality, who gave as good as they got in bed and walked away when it was over without pretending they'd fallen in love. None of those qualities applied to Megan. Thanks to her remarkable figure, she'd no doubt had a difficult time with men and sex, and if Nikki was to be believed, guys had taken advantage of her and then blabbed about it.

The thought of what she must've endured filled Dean with white-hot rage that would've frightened him if he'd been in his right mind. Thanks to fatigue that lingered like a wet blanket, he clearly wasn't thinking straight. Dean Ambrose didn't get 'involved.' The word wasn't even in his vocabulary. So, what was he doing in her shower? Or bathing her son? Or tending to her every need? What the hell was wrong with him?

 _Let's face it. Sex with her would definitely not be the usual no-strings deal I prefer._ The realization caused his burgeoning erection to wither and roused him from the shampoo-scented dream state he'd slipped into. He returned the bottle to the rack and ran a razor over his face before stepping out of the shower. When he heard a sharp knock on the screen door, he wrapped a towel around his waist and went out to answer it.

Glancing at the sofa, he noticed Megan had dozed off with Kyle in her arms. The sight of them tugged at his heart and made him forget for a second that he was on his way to the door. A second, louder knock got his attention.

"Mr. Ambrose?"

"Right. Come in." Dean swung open the door to admit the delivery guy from the Beachcomber who'd brought the dinner he'd ordered before his shower. "Just put it on the table." Dean found his wallet, grabbed four twenties, and handed over the cash. "Keep the change."

"Wow, thanks!"

Dean saw him take a measuring look at Megan and Kyle on the sofa and then at him in a towel before he headed out the door.

"Did you seriously just answer my door wearing nothing but a towel?" Megan asked in a sleep-roughed voice.

"Yeah; so?"

"Oh my God." She struggled to sit up while accommodating the sleeping baby. "It'll be all over town in less than an hour that I'm doing Dean Ambrose. That's just what I need."

Dean wanted to shoot himself in the foot for being so stupid. Needing a second to figure out how to handle this latest challenge, he leaned down and took Kyle from her. Even though he was careful, his fingers still brushed against her breasts, causing her to pull back from him.

"Sorry." He walked Kyle to his crib and settled a light blanket over him. Before he left the room, he combed his fingers through the baby's hair. "Don't be in any rush to grow up, buddy. It's not all it's cracked up to be."

Steeling for a fight, he returned to the living room and stopped short in his tracks. "I'm sorry," he said, moved by her tears. "I wasn't thinking."

"Why would you? No on in this town has ever thought anything less than the best for you."

"I'll make sure people know exactly what's going on here."

Her uneven burst of laughter surprised him. "Gee, thanks. That'll make it all better."

He sat next to her on the sofa. "I'm really sorry. It never occurred to me—"

"What's done is done. You'd think I'd be used to it by now."

Dean had no idea what to say to that, so he thought it best to keep quiet.

"Someone told you, didn't they?"

The soft, weary tone to her voice went straight to his heart. "I don't believe it."

When she looked up at him with chocolate brown eyes still damp with tears, the need to offer comfort overtook his better judgment. He slipped an arm around her and brought her head to rest on his shoulder.

At first she resisted, but he resisted right back. "I don't believe a word of it," he said more forcefully this time as he buried his fingers into her soft, thick hair to keep her head right where he wanted it.

"Why? Because I didn't fall at the feet of the almighty Dean Ambrose at the first opportunity and beg him to have sex with me?"

"For one thing."

The teasing comment earned him a genuine burst of husky laughter, the sound of which was so sexy and so appealing that the breath seemed to get stuck in his throat on its way to his lungs.

"So I've dented your ego, then, huh?"

"Very badly," he replied in a grave tone as he combed his fingers through her hair. He kept waiting for her to tell him to stop, but she didn't.

"I'd apologize if I didn't think the dose of humility was good for you."

So, the bitter, world-weary Megan Wright could also be quite witty. The discovery, on top of all the others, made his heart race. "I'd say the least you could do to make it up to me is to have dinner with me." He gestured to the bags on the table. "What do you say?"

"What's on the menu?"

"I was jonesing for a lobster, so I asked Nattie to send over a couple."

Megan stiffened against him.

"What?"

"It's ripping through town right now that Dean Ambrose is half-naked in my apartment and buying me lobster. They'll be speculating about what he'd get in return."

"Megan…"

"Let's just eat." The laughter of a moment ago was replaced by sorrow. "They'll say what they're going to say no matter what I do. The truth is never a consideration where I'm concerned."

With his finger on her chin, he urged her to look at him. "I never meant to cause you any trouble."

"You started causing me trouble the second you stepped in front of my bike."

"The only part I regret is that you got hurt."

"Stick around. You'll grow to regret a whole lot more than that."

"Is that an invitation?"

She drew back; horrified by the corner she'd painted herself into. "No!"

"Sounded like one to me," he said in a playful tone, leaning in to close the distance between them. He could no more fight the magnetic pull than he could avoid taking the next breath.

Her expression shifted from wariness to fear. "Don't."

"Why not?" he whispered.

"Because nothing can come of it."

"You don't know that."

"Yes, I do."

"You make me want to prove you wrong." He brushed his lips over hers, gratified by the gasp that escaped from her tightly closed mouth. "Kiss me the way you did before."

"I w-was asleep. That doesn't count."

Her stammer drew a small smile from him. "You're right. It doesn't. This one does, though." Ignoring the press of her hand against his chest as well as the way her eyes widened in shock and maybe dismay, Dean fitted his mouth over hers and sank into the satiny softness. He moved his hand from her arm to cup her cheek but kept his lips still against hers. He'd made the first move. Now it was up to her.

Dean thought he'd go mad waiting for a sign, a signal, anything to tell him she wanted more. Just when he was about to give up, he felt her uninjured hand on his neck and the first tentative brush of her tongue against his bottom lip.

Green light.

Dean devoured her with sweeping thrusts of his tongue into the sweet depths of her mouth, steeped in her addictive flavor. At first she seemed too taken aback by his ardor to respond, but when her tongue finally tangled with his, meeting him thrust for thrust, Dean fought off the urgent need for more.

Many minutes later, he pulled back from her, breathing heavily, feeling more spent by one sensuous kiss than he normally did from the full act. Opening his eyes, he found hers fixed on him. Unable to process all he saw, he took the coward's way out by burrowing into the smooth column of her neck and pressing hot, open-mouth kisses to her heated skin.

"Dean." She sounded as breathless as he felt.

"Hmm?" At the base of her neck, he found a sensitive tendon and rolled it between his teeth.

She cried out.

"Sorry." Mortified by his overwhelming reaction to her, he rested his head on her shoulder and tried to regain control.

Her fingers sifted through his hair in a soothing caress that made him want to stay right there for a long, long time.

"It didn't hurt," she said after a charged moment of silence.

"No?"

She shook her head, and her fragrant hair brushed against his face, sending another surge of hot-blooded lust to his lap.

Encouraged, he ran his tongue lightly over the same spot on her neck.

A shudder rippled through her. "I don't' want to be what you expect me to be," she said softly.

Raising his head, he found her eyes in the encroaching darkness. "And what's that?"

"Easy." Her quiet dignity touched him in places he normally kept walled off and unreachable. "Cheap."

Dean chose his words carefully. "Sweetheart, I've had easy and cheap, and you're neither."

Incredulous, she stared at him. "How do you know that?"

"Gut instinct."

"And your gut is never wrong?"

"Hasn't failed me yet."

"People in town will speak poorly of you if you get involved with me."

"Megan, I've never once give a shit what anyone thought of me, and I'm not about to start caring now."

"That's easy to say when you've been loved and adored your whole life. You have no idea how vicious people can be."

He dropped another light kiss on her swollen lips. "If it means I get to spend some more time with you, I'd be willing to find out."

"You say that now…"

"How about that lobster?"

She held up her injured hand. "I might need some help."

"You got it." He scooped her up and carried her to the table. "After dinner, we'll change the bandages and put some more ointment on those cuts."

"Oh goody. Something to look forward to."

He grinned at her, enjoying her cutting wit. "Give me one second to throw on some clothes." When he returned a minute later dressed in clean cargo shorts and a Las Vegas Golden Knights t-shirt, he leaned down to bring his face in close to hers. "I want you to know that I'm not here because I feel like I have to be."

Her pretty lips formed a surprised _O._ "No?"

Dean shook his head. "Today has been fun—not the part where you got hurt, but everything since then."

"Clearly, you don't get out enough."

Wiggling his brows at her, he uncorked a bottle of white wine and poured it into mismatched glasses he'd found in her cabinet. He handed one to her and raised his in a toast. "Here's to getting out more."

Megan made him wait an uncertain, breathless moment before she touched her glass to his. Celebrating the small victory, Dean got busy with the lobsters.

Linda Ambrose paced the length of her wide back porch without noticing the spectacular sunset. She'd succeeded in luring Dean back to the island, but nothing else was going according to plan. If she didn't find a way to get him to come home, the whole town would be talking about her son being shacked up with that…that woman!

He hadn't given his own mother even an hour of his precious time, but he had plenty of time to spend with a woman most people considered the town tramp. Not that Linda had anything against Megan. She was a good worker at the hotel and at the house one afternoon a week. However, she wasn't someone Linda wanted to see with any of her sons, especially Dean.

Linda didn't believe in a mother having favorites, but Dean had always been special, a son any mother would be proud of. Watching him wrestle his way to the state championship his senior year remained among her fondest memories. When he'd suffered the injury that ended his season, her heart had broken right along with his.

And then he'd picked himself up, refocused on his training and rehabilitation of his injury, and emerged with a try-out for the WWE. Along the way, she'd hoped and prayed he would meet a woman who'd complement and support him as he continued on his successful path.

That certainly wasn't going to happen once the local woman she had in mind for him heard he'd stayed overnight with Megan Wright. He'd just made his mother's plan to find him a suitable wife on the island a lot harder than it would've been otherwise.

The phone rang in the kitchen. Hoping it might be Dean; Linda rushed inside and groaned when she heard her sister's voice. "Hello, Victoria."

"Why didn't you tell me Dean was coming home?"

"Because I wasn't sure which day he was getting here."

No way would she admit he hadn't bothered to share his travel plans with her. Victoria would take too much pleasure in hearing that.

"Mae Young just called. Her grandson delivered lobsters to Dean at Megan Wright's apartment."

Linda suppressed a groan. Mae Young was the biggest gossip in town. If she knew Dean was shacking up with Megan, everyone else knew, too.

"And get this," Victoria said, clearly enjoying the scoop, "Dean answered the door in nothing but a towel."

Linda would kill him. "He knocked her off her bike and hurt her badly. He's helping her until she recovers. There's nothing more to it than that."

"Mae heard they looked awfully cozy."

When she finished with Dean, Victoria would be next on her hit list. "Honestly, he's been in town for eight hours. What do you think could be happening when she's bruised and bloody from falling off her bike?"

Victoria's chuckle infuriated Linda. "Use your imagination. He's a red-blooded man, and she's always willing. A few scabs won't slow her down."

"That's just unkind, Vic, and beneath you." It really wasn't, but Linda had no desire to start World War III with her sister. "Dean is doing an honorable thing by helping her. I don't appreciate you making it into something dirty."

"Don't get pissy with me. I'm not the one who answered the door in a towel."

"I have to go. Vinnie Mac is home, and he's hungry."

"Before you run away, I heard from Daniel today. Brie is expecting again! We're having a regular baby boom in our family."

Linda wondered if a head could actually explode. "Congratulations. That's wonderful. They sure do stay busy, don't they?"

"Lucky for me. Talk soon."

Linda slammed down the phone with a swear word that never usually left her lips.

"Well, good evening to you, too, my love." Vinnie Mac kissed her forehead. "What's go you all fired up?"

"Your son! That woman and Mae Young." Linda banged around the kitchen, fixing him a plate of spaghetti and meatballs she'd eaten earlier. "How could he answer the door wearing only a towel?"

Vinnie Mac plugged his cell phone into the charge and turned back to her. "What's that you said? Mae Young answered the door wearing only a towel?" He made a face of supreme dismay. "I just lost my appetite."

"Not Mae! Pay attention, will you? Your son answered the door at Megan Wright's apartment wearing only a towel! And he's buying her lobster!"

"God, what a swine. Where did we go wrong with him?

"You don't get it! It'll be all over town by morning that he's sleeping with her! Then who will want him?"

"Any woman would be lucky to land him."

"No one wants a guy who's been with the easiest girl in town."

"Lin," he said in a disapproving tone. "She's a nice girl."

"With a reputation that would make a porn star blush." Linda plopped his plate down on the table. "I need to fix this and fast."

"Linda…you know how these things always go. Remember when you fixed Mandy's cousin up with Aiden when she was visiting LA?"

Linda stared at him, incredulous. "How is that my fault? Mandy failed to mention her little cousin had just been sprung from the psych ward."

"Then there was Sonya's niece, who you sicced on Zahara…"

"When I asked her to show her a good time in New York City, I never said she should spend the whole weekend in her hotel room. And if she didn't know she had chlamydia, how was I supposed to know?"

"Of course, Shaul's songwriting sister wasn't exactly the one for Elias."

"Shaul never told me that her sister was more interested in boozing her way through Nashville than in songwriting. But Elias figured it out."

"Not before she puked in his new truck."

Linda scowled at him. "Whose side are you on anyway?"

"Yours love. Always."

"Could have fooled me."

"These meatballs are exquisite."

"Don't go using that Ambrose charm on me. I know all of your tricks."

"So matchmaking isn't your thing. You have many other talents. Such as making meatballs that melt in my mouth."

"Dean needs a wife, or at this rate, he'll be having babies in his forties."

"Maybe if you'd been a little sweeter to his friend Renee when we were in Vegas this winter, he might not be shacking up in town tonight."

Hands on her hips, Linda faced off with him.

"What? I'm just saying…"

"She is all wrong for him. I had her number in five minutes. His head was turned by the way she looks, but he'll figure her out soon enough—if he hasn't already."

"Let's face it, babe. There's not a woman out there who'll ever meet your standards for any of those boys."

"That's not true! I want them to be happy. I want them to have what we've had all these years. Is there anything wrong with that?"

"Aww, honey, of course there isn't." He reached for her hand and drew her onto his lap. "But you've gotta let them get there on their own way and in their own time."

"I've tried that, and now I have four sons in their thirties who have to intention of ever settling down and having families. They'll regret that later, Vince. You know that as well as I does."

"Maybe so, but they'll be their regrets."

"I don't want them to miss out on love." The thought of it broke her heart. "Where would you be today if I hadn't saved you from yourself?"

His big laugh rang through the kitchen. "God only knows."

"See? That's all I want for them, too."

"Promise me you'll leave Dean alone while he's home."

Linda hesitated. How could she promise that? He drew back from her so he could see her face. "Linda…"

"Fine! I'll leave him alone." She intentionally didn't use the word promise and made sure he couldn't see the fingers she'd crossed behind his back.

Dean gathered up the trash bag full of lobster shells and followed Megan's directions to the garbage cans. He tossed the bag into the can and turned to go back upstairs when the flare of a cigarette lit up the darkness, illuminating Paige's face.

"What're you doing hanging around here?" she asked.

"I'm just trying to help your sister."

"I can help her. Why don't you go back where you belong?"

"And where's that?"

"In your big white house overlooking your North Harbor kingdom."

"It's not my kingdom."

"Whatever you say."

"What've I ever done to you or your sister?"

"Not a damned thing."

"So, then, what's your beef with me?"

"I have no beef with you. I have beef with guys like you who brag to your friends that you had to go with one of the Wright sisters."

"That's not my style."

"What isn't? Having a go with the trashy girls or talking about it?"

"Megan is not trashy." Dean was growing to dislike this bitter, unhappy woman more with every passing second. "Why would you say that about your own sister?"

"IT's not me who says it. Did she tell you where our mother is right now?"

"MY sister told me."

"I'm sure she took great pleasure in that. Did she tell you how my mother got there?"

"No."

"Then you should ask your mother about that."

"What does she have to do with it?"

"Ask her," Paid said as she raised a handheld baby monitor to her ear. "Talking in her sleep."

"Where's your husband?" Dean had known Kevin Skaff in high school but not well.

"Another good question."

"Look, I don't know why you're so pissed at me—"

"You wouldn't, but if you screw with my sister, you'll deal with me."

Dean had never known two more jaded women. "I just want to see her back on her feet."

"Noble of you, truly."

"What would you have me do? Walk away and leave her to fend for herself after I caused her injuries?"

Paige ground out her cigarette. "I'll be watching you."

"Thanks for the warning."

She left him standing in the dark. He saw her enter her house through the sliding door on the back porch and took a moment to get himself together before returning to Megan's apartment.

"Did you have trouble finding the trash cans?" she asked.

"NO." He skimmed his fingers through his hair that was still damp from the shower. "I ran into your sister."

"What'd she say?"

Dean shrugged. "Nothing worth repeating." He debated for a second but had to know. "What did my mother have to do with putting your mother in jail?"

Megan gasped. "She told you that?"

"Is it true? Did my mother have something to do with it?"

Megan seemed to weigh her words carefully. "It was a combination of things."

He lowered himself to the coffee table, forcing her to look at him. "Tell me."

"My mother passed a bad check at the hotel bar and your reported her."

"For a first offense?"

"Third." Megan's eyes dropped to her lap, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment. "Your mother didn't have a choice."

Dean covered her good hand with his and squeezed.

"I'm sorry."

"She's been courting disaster for years now. It was bound to happen eventually."

"And you've tried hard not to make the same mistakes."

"For all the good it's done me. I'm always one step ahead of disaster."

He linked his fingers through hers and was pleased when she left him. "I'm incredibly drawn to you, Megan."

Her face flushed again. "Don't say things like that. You don't' mean it."

"But I do mean it, Meg."

Bringing their joined hands to his lips, he kissed the back of hers and decided not to push the issue. He had a feeling that too much too soon was not the way to woo this stubborn woman. "What do you say we clean up those cuts?"

"I was hoping you'd forgotten about that."

"No such luck."

"I'd love to take a shower. I feel gross."

He tucked a loose strand of her hair behind her ear. "You don't look gross. In fact you look quite lovely."

"You don't need to say that stuff to me. It's not going to get you anywhere."

"And where is it you think that I want to be?"

She replied with the scathing look he'd grown quite fond of during their day together.

"Why don't we deal with this thing you're worried about right now?"

"What're you talking about?"

"You think I'm only doing all this so I can sleep with you, right?"

She had the good grace to appear embarrassed by his frank assessment. "It has crossed my mind, yes."

"Then let me put your mind at ease—we won't sleep together until you tell me you want me to." When she began to protest, he rested his fingers over her lips. "Until you say these words: 'Dean, make love to me,' I swear it won't happen. I can't promise I won't try to kiss you again, because I really like kissing you. But anything more than that? It's all you."

"Can I talk now?" she asked.

Dean smiled and removed his fingers.

"I'm not used to people without ulterior motives."

"I'm sorry you've been mistreated in the past, but not all men are lousy pigs."

She studied him with eyes utterly lacking guile, and his heart stuttered in his chest. "They aren't?"

Without breaking the intense eye contact, he shook his head. Reaching out to caress her cheek, he leaned in to kiss her lightly. "I can't resist you."

"You should try a little harder."

"You don't really want me to."

"How do you know?"

"Well, you started the whole kissing phase of our relationship."

"I was asleep! And it's not a relationship."

Dean's grin spread across his face. "What would you call it then?"

"More like, an annoyance."

He laughed—hard, which seemed to infuriate her. "Let's table this debate for now and get those cuts taken care of."

"Do we have to?"

"Yep, we sure do. Ready for a lift to the bathroom?"

"I guess."

Dean moved carefully to lift her from the sofa and carry her to the bathroom. "How do you want to do this?"  
"I want to do this by myself, preferably."

He followed her into the bathroom. "You could fall."

She turned and seemed surprised to find him right behind her. Placing a hand on his chest, she stopped him from coming any closer. "There's no way you're seeing me naked, so turn around and get out."

Dean put on a pout face. "You're no fun at all."

"So I've been told."

He closed the lit to the toilet. "Why don't you sit and let me take off the bandages?"

Eyeing him warily, she said, "All right, but then you're out of here mister."

"Yes, ma'am." Dean helped to ease her down and then knelt in front of her to unwrap the gauze. Uncovering the angry, seeping would on her knee, he winced, and his stomach turned. "Damn, Megan." He glanced up at her pale face. "Don't look."

"Okay."

He removed the bandages on her elbow and hand, struck by her stoic courage when she had to be in terrible pain. "I hate that I caused this."

With the fingers on her good hand, she brushed the hair off his forehead.

Staggered by the gentle caress, he looked up at her.

"You're not what I expected."

"No?" He kept his tone light, but the small bathroom became airless.

"From your mother's stories, I pictured you as a real playboy. A different woman for every different day of the week."

Dean cringed at the somewhat accurate description.

"That might've described me at one point in my life, but not anymore."

"And when did this miraculous change occur?"

He pretended to give that significant thought. "At about nine o'clock this morning when you ran into me." He said with a sly smile.


	5. Chapter 5

****A/N****

 **Thank you all for the reviews.** **They truly warm my heart, and give me the drive to continue writing. After this chapter, I will be taking the weekend to relax and be home with my family. I will be back on Monday with the next chapter. For now, enjoy chapter 5!**

As he left the bathroom, Megan wanted to believe his interest in her was genuine, but she was still convinced that the minute she was fully healed, he'd forget all about her and go running back to his regular life. How could she believe anything else? Every man she'd ever loved had let her down. Why should he be any different? _You're not being fair_ , the angel sitting on her right shoulder said.

 _Yeah, but he's probably just worried about you suing him for hurting you so badly_ , the devil on her left shoulder countered.

"Enough," Megan muttered. Leaning on the sink, she stood slowly and breathed her way through the pain. She managed to remove her shorts, underwear and t-shirt but was stymied by her bra. Her injured hand wouldn't cooperate to release the four tight hooks. Teary-eyed from the pain in her hand, she reached for a towel and wrapped it around herself. "Dean?"

"What do you need, honey?"

The endearment made her swoon with desire. How she wished she could be his honey, but it wasn't going to happen. Having feelings for a man who lived thousands of miles away was foolish and risky. "I, um, I need some help." Just the thought of him seeing the old-lady bra made her feel sick.

"Do you want me to come in?"

Swallowing hard, she said, "Please."

The door opened, and his face went slack at the sight of her in a towel.

"Try not to ogle, will you, please?"

"Who's ogling?"

"You, you are ogling."

He seemed to make an effort to focus on her face.

"Can you, um, unhook my bra? Please?" She watched his Adam's apple bob up and down in the strong column of his throat.

"Sure," he said in a strangled tone.

Megan turned around and let the towel drop just enough to give him access. His fingers brushed against her back, and she gasped.

"Sorry."

"It's okay." She held her breath while he worked on the hooks.

"All set."

"Thank you."

Megan waited for him to leave, but instead, he pushed the straps aside.

"They cut into your skin."

"Yes." His lips brushed her right shoulder, and she stiffened in surprised. "W-what're you doing?"

"I have no idea."

Sensation tingled through her, making her tremble. "Dean—"

He kissed the indentation on her left shoulder while continuing to massage the other side. "Can I ask you something?"

"If I say yes, will it get you out of here so I can shower?"

"Uh-huh."

"What's the question?"

"Since you hate them so much, do you ever think about getting them reduced?"

Turing, she stared at him. "Seriously? That's your question?

"I'm sorry. It's none of my business. I shouldn't have—"

"Every day since sixth grade! I hate them! They've totally ruined my life!"

"So, why don't you…you know…"

"I don't have health insurance or thousands of dollars."

"I didn't mean to upset you."

"It is what it is." Looking up at him, she said, "May I take a shower now?"

"Yeah, sure." He turned to go. "I'll be right out here if you need me again."

Once the door closed, Megan dropped the towel and started into the full-length mirror affixed to the back of the door. Her breasts looked like mini cantaloupes, her hips were too round and curvy, and her belly not quite as flat as it had been before Kyle. Despite backaches, shoulder spasms and a variety of skin issues, she'd learned to live with breasts that developed far too early and gave the teenage boys in her class plenty to obsess about. Some days she wished she could wave a magic wand and wake up with normal sized- breasts. Then maybe every man she encountered would actually focus on her face rather than her chest. A girl could dream.

Megan stepped into the shower and gasped when the water hit her cuts. Her tears were only partly caused by the pain. Just once, one time, she'd like to feel like a normal woman who stood a chance at happiness with a man like Dean.

Just once…

Dean wanted to shoot himself in the foot for asking that question and upsetting her, but his desire to know everything about her had trumped his better judgment. He sighed when he thought about the deep red grooves the bra straps had left in her slender shoulders. He wanted to give her the money. She needed it. He had it. If only it was that simple.

That he'd give this woman he'd known only on day thousands of dollars without hesitation and expect nothing in return should've scared the hell out of him. Rather, it pleased him to know he might be able to do something like that to make her happy. If she'd let him, that is. A huge if.

Kyle whimpered, and Dean went to check on him. He found the baby sleeping with his bum in the air, his face pressed to the mattress and his mouth open and moving. Dean fixed the blanket that had gotten tangled under his legs and covered him again. For a long time, he stood there and watched the baby sleep before he reached out a finger.

Kyle tightened his little hand around Dean's finger. The implied trust touched Dean's heart, and his throat tightened with emotion. "I wish I could convince your mom I can be trusted," he whispered.

"Did he wake up?" Megan asked from behind Dean, startling him.

The scent of her shampoo and floral soap filled his senses and sent another surge of lust rippling through him. "Just doing some talking."

"He dreams like I do."

Remembering her earlier dream, Dean extricated his finger from Kyle's grip and turned to her. She wore a robe and had her hair turned up in a towel. He studied her pretty face, wishing he could take her into his arms and kiss her again the way he'd yearned to since the last time.

"You're staring," she said after a long, breathless moment.

"You're pretty. Very, very pretty."

"I wish you'd stop saying that stuff."

"Why?"

"It makes me uncomfortable."

"Is it because you don't believe it?"

"No, it's because I am afraid to believe it."

He framed her face with his hands, running his thumbs gently over her face.

Her lips formed the surprised _O_ he was coming to love.

"I would never hurt you."

"I'm sure you'd like to believe that."

"Hasn't anyone ever been kind to you, Megan?"

She thought about that. "My grandmother, but she passed away when I was nine."

He moved closer, his lips hovering just about hers. "You make me want to do everything for you. Do you know why?"

She shook her head but didn't look away.

"Because you'd never ask me to."

"And others do?"

"Always."

"Even the ones you've loved?"

"I've never loved any of them."

Her expressive eyes widened with surprise. "None of them?"

He liked shocking her. "It hasn't been something I've ever had or needed." Until now, he wanted to say but didn't dare. "You seem to be getting around a little better."

"The water hurt, but it loosened things up."

"Let's get you some new bandages."

"I just, ah, need to get dressed. First."

Dean heard her but couldn't bring himself to look away or the leave the room.

"Dean."

"Oh, right. I'll wait for you out there."

"Thank you."

Dean went out to the living room and dropped to the sofa, his hormones working on overdrive. He'd never reacted to a woman quite like this. Figured it had to be one who wanted nothing to do with him. Releasing a short bark of laughter, he marveled at the irony. He'd finally, finally found one who sparked more than just his libido and she couldn't care less about him.

Well, he'd just have to change her mind. She wouldn't be easily swayed, but he couldn't let her slip through his fingers without finding out what they could possibly have together.

Megan eased her way into a tight camisole that somewhat contained her breasts and put an extra-large t-shirt over it. She'd learned to play down her considerable assets. Her thought drifted to the man waiting in the other room. His steely blue eyes made her itchy for something she'd never wanted before. He looked at her like he wanted to devour her. The feelings he generated in her were bigger and more dangerous than any she'd ever known. He scared the life out of her. If only she could convince him to leave her alone.

She ventured into the living room, where he sat with his head back and his eyes closed. Megan studied his strong jaw, the smooth skin on his nick, the broad shoulders, the muscular chest, and the bulge of his sex. Shocked by her own curiosity, she quickly glanced at the hair falling into his eyes and those perfect, kissable lips…What a package. She sighed, hoping for the fortitude she'd need to convince him to go.

"See something you like?"

She jumped, startled by the rumble of his voice. "Of course not."

"Ouch. The hits to my ego just keep on coming." He stood up to his full six-foot-four-inch height.

Next to him, she felt slightly smaller at her own five-foot-nine-inch height. "If you can't take the hits, there's the door."

His eyes hardened with displeasure. "Let's take care of those cuts."

Now that he'd made her feel not just tiny but small, Megan lowered herself to the sofa. "I'm sorry."

"You're sorry? For what?" he asked, but he didn't look at her.

"For being nasty towards you."

He shrugged. "I can take it."

"But you don't deserve it. Not after everything you've done today."

He unrolled the gauze and placed it on the coffee table next to the ointment. "I'm being made to pay for every guy who's done you wrong in the past. I get it." Propping her injured leg on his knee, he looked up at her. "Are you ready for this?"

Megan bit her lip and nodded. Even though he was gentle, she cried out the second the ointment touched her ravaged skin. "Oh, God," she gasped. "That hurts!"

He tightened his hold on her leg. "I know, honey. Just hand in there for another minute."

By the time he finished dressing her knee, she was sweaty, nauseated and on the verge of tears. Dean reached for her. She rested her head on his shoulder and focused on his now-familiar scent. He smoothed his hand over her hair, whispering soft words of comfort. "Better?" he asked several minutes later.

She nodded but didn't raise her head off his shoulder.

"Are you ready for me to do your elbow?"

"No," she whispered into his neck as she clutched his shirt with her good hand.

A tremble rippled through his big frame. "Megan," he said in a raspy voice. "Honey, you're making me crazy. I'm only human."

Has she ever made a man crazy before? Not that she could recall. She liked the feeling of power that came over her. As if it had a mind of its own, her hand travelled from his chest to curve around his neck. Turning her face ever so slightly, she found his mouth warm and willing.

When his big hands cupped her face and his tongue slid between her lips, her brain shut down and all the reasons this shouldn't be happening ceased to matter.

Dean's cell phone interrupted the carnal kiss.

Megan pulled back from him

He groaned and tightened his hold on her. "Let it ring."

"It might be important."

"Trust me, it isn't." He tried to kiss her again. "This is important."

She held him off. "You need to get it."

Still groaning, he crawled over to his back pack to retrieve the phone. "What?"

"Dean? What kind of way is that to answer the phone?"

"I'm busy, Mom." He glanced at Megan, who quickly looked away. Fabulous. One step forward, two steps back. "What do you need?"

"It's all over town that you're answering her door in a towel and buying her lobster."

"So what?"

"Why should you care? You don't' live here?"  
"Is there a purpose to this call, mother?"

"I'd like to know when you'll be home—here."

He ventured another glance at Megan, who was doing her best not to look at him. "I'm bringing Megan and her son Kyle to dinner tomorrow."

"What?!" his mother and Megan said in unison.

"Does six-thirty good for you? I have to work, so I need some time to get back here to shower and pick them up."

His mother said nothing for so long he thought she'd hung up, but there was no such luck. "Six-thirty is fine," she said stiffly.

"We'll see you then. Make your famous pot roast, will you? I miss that."

"Anything else?"

"Well, you know I love your chocolate cake."

"You and I are going to have a very long talk, young man. Do you hear me?"

"Are you hearing all that static on the line? Gotta go. See you tomorrow." Chuckling, Dean ended the call, imagining the scene at his parents' house. He felt sorry for his father.

"There's no way I'm going to dinner there."

"It'll be great. They'll go nuts over Kyle."

"You can't ask this of me, Dean. I clean that house."

"SO you can't eat there?"

"You have no clue how things work around here."

"I don't care and neither should you. Now, where were we before we were so rudely interrupted?"

She gave him an arch look. "You were about to put medicine on my elbow."

"That's not how I remember it."

With a gentle push to his chest, she turned her injured arm so he could have access.

"If you want to be that way about it…"

"I do."

Dean applied ointment and bandages to her elbow and hand.

"You can't come in here and upend my whole like and then just walk away," she said after a long period of quiet while he dressed her wounds.

Her soft words and the bravery behind them touched him. "I'm not going anywhere."

"You're going back to Vegas."

"Not for a while."

"Don't you have to go back out on to the road?"

"I'm taking some time off."

"How much time?"

"A month or two."

"That's an awfully long vacation."

He looked up at her. "Can you keep a big secret? Once that would freak out my mother?

"You knocked up some ring rat in some Podunk town, and now she's after the family fortune?"

"That's very funny, but no. You're just a regular comedienne, aren't you?"

Her unexpected giggle took his breath away. "You should do that more often."

"What? Make fun of you?"

"Laugh; it sounds good coming from you. So, do you want to hear a secret?"

Megan settled back into the sofa, her face still pale from the pain of her injuries. "Yes, I want to hear your dirty secret."

"I never said that it was dirty." Dean sat next to her and brought her feet to rest in his lap. "I had an anxiety attack last week. It scared the hell out of me. I thought I was having a heart attack."

Concern radiated from her. "What brought that on?"

"Too much stress, not enough sleep, and skipping meals."

"So, you're on a forced vacation?"

"I guess you could say that, but I also wanted to see my dad and find out if he really plans on selling the hotel."

"You've heard about that, huh?"

"Yeah, it makes me so sad to think of that place belonging to a stranger."

"Well, your dad can't work forever."

"I know." Dean began to massage her feet. Talking to her was almost as much fun as kissing her, and it seemed he couldn't be near her and not want to touch her. "You have the softest skin."

She tried to remove her feet from his lap, but he didn't let go. "I can't do this, Dean. I don't take these kinds of risks. They don't work out well for me."

"Will you give me a chance? That's all that I'm asking for."

"I have to consider Kyle."

"I know you're a package deal."

"I can't think with you sucking up all the space around here."

He flashed her a smug smile.

"I knew that would go straight to your head," she muttered.

"I have to take the compliments where I can get them. You're rather stingy that way." He watched her stifle a yawn. "Let's get you into bed." After helping her to the chair across the room, he unfolded her bed and turned down the covers. "Do you want me to sleep on the porch?"

Megan thought about that. "It's already all over town that you're answering my door in a towel and buying me lobster, so I guess the damage is done."

"Are you sure? I don't want to cause you any more trouble than I already have."

"Yes, you do."

He couldn't help but smile at her sauciness as he tucked her in.

"Use the sofa cushions to make a bed on the floor." She directed him to a closet in the hallway for a pillow, and after checking on Kyle one last time, Dean settled into his sleeping bag on the floor. A balmy harbor breeze rippled through the window sheers, and the full moon cast a glow upon the room.

"How's the pain?"

"It's okay."

"Would you like another round of the pain pills?"

"No, thanks."

"What time do I have to be at work tomorrow?"

"At nine-thirty."

"Maybe you should tell me what I'm going to do once I get there—if you're not too tired."

"The first thing you have to do is report to housekeeping in the basement and punch in."

Dean listened to her talk about crazy Sundays and how to stock the cart with towels, clean sheets, toiletries, toilet paper and cleaning supplies. Lulled by her soft voice, he had to force himself to pay attention.

"Are you listening to me?"

"Absolutely. No DNA; check."

"I said more than that."

"But DNA is the deal-breaker with Lana."

"She freaks out if she finds any sign of the previous guest—and I mean any sign."

Dean chuckled. "Does she go through the rooms with a black light after you clean?"

"You're better off leaving nothing to chance."

"How much DNA are we talking about?"

"That's for me to know and you to find out."

"Ewww, gross."

"Precisely."

"I'm feeling another anxiety attack coming on."

Her sharp intake of breath made him regret the joke.

"Really?"

"I'm fine, but I appreciate your concern."

Megan threw a sofa pillow that hit him square in the face.

"Oof," Dean said, laughing. "That was a good shot."

"Don't joke about that. You scared me."

"Whoa! I think she might be starting to care about me."

"Nah, I just don't need the scandal of you kicking it in my house."

"That hurts, Meg."

"You'll survive."

"Wanna make out?"

"No!"

Dean smiled, imagining the look on her face. "Yes, you do."

"I'm going to sleep now."

"Talk to me some more."

"About what?"

"Anything."

"My life is kind of boring."

"Was it just you and Paige growing up?"

"And my mom."

"Where was your dad?"

She paused for a long time. "He went to the mainland one day and never came back."

Dean winced. "You've never seen him again?"

"No, he sent my mother a letter a couple of weeks later saying he couldn't live on an island anymore."

Dean could understand that but kept the thought to himself.

"That was the last we ever heard from him."

"How old were you?"

"I was five, and Paige was three. She doesn't remember him at all."

"But you do."

"Vividly because he used to toss me over his head, and I'd scream and laugh."

"You mustve missed him terribly."

"We could see the ferry landing from out apartment over the Galley." She referred to a restaurant in town. "For weeks, I watched every person come off every boat. I really thought he'd change his mind."

Dean's heart broke for her. Life could be so unfair. He also had a better idea now of what an uphill climb he faced in getting her to trust him. "I'm sorry."

"It was a long time ago."

Dean didn't know if it was wise to pursue it, but he had so many questions. "It must've been hard on your mom all by herself."

"We were always struggling. She never has been able to handle money, which is how she finally managed to land in jail." Megan released a nervous-sounding laugh. "Anyway, you don't want to hear about my soap-opera life."

"I want to hear it all."

"Even how the other kids tormented me from sixth grade on because I was the first one to develop?"

"If you want to tell me, yes."

Dean waited, hoping she would trust him with her deepest secrets. Then, finally, she began to talk.


	6. Chapter 6

****A/N****

 **Welcome back! Hopefully everyone had a great weekend! This chapter, I had to split into two chapters because they were super long. Let's dive right on in to chapter 6 part one!**

"I started getting chest pains when I was ten. I was too afraid to tell anyone because I thought I might be dying or something. I was a B cup by eleven, and the kids at school called me Mega Megan. My mother bought me a bikini the summer between sixth and seventh grade. That was the first time I became aware of boys and grown men checking out my chest and figure. That was also when my big t-shirt phase started." She paused and released another nervous sounding laugh. "Jeez, what is it about you? I never talk about this stuff."

"You don't have to now if you don't want to."

"I don't mind. It's all ancient history anyway."

But it wasn't. Dean doubted she could hear the hurt that resonated even as she attempted flippancy.

"In middle school, the boys started snapping my bra in the lunch line. It became a contest to see who could get to me the most times in a day. I started carrying my books around in a heavy backpack so they couldn't get to my bra."

"Doesn't that count as assault or something?"

"Reporting them would've only made things worse for me."

"That's so wrong."

"I thought it couldn't get any worse, but I got my period in eighth grade, and within six months I was a D. Suddenly, every boy in school wanted to date Megan Wright and her big boobs."

"Did you go out with any of them?"

"There was this one boy…Justin." Her voice went soft, her tone wistful. "He was really nice to me. For months he walked me home and carried my backpack. He wouldn't let the other boys snap my bra. I thought he was different."

Dean's stomach began to hurt. He so didn't want to hear this. With every tale she related, the mountain before him seemed to get a little steeper and the potential fall that much more sheer. "But he wasn't?"

"Turns out all that time he was pretending to be my friend, he was really hoping to get his hands on my breasts. The first time I let him kiss me; he went right for second base. He was quick, and before I could even react, he had his hands under my bra, mauling me. I'm pretty sure he…you know..in his pants."

Dean uttered an expletive under his breath. If that guy walked into the room right then, Dean would've beaten the hell out of him.

"He was the first to kiss and tell. It was all over school the next day that he'd scored the first feel of Megan Wright's famous boobs. After that, I faked sick for a week so that I wouldn't have to face them all."

"But eventually you had to go back."

"Uh-huh, and everyone looked at me differently. That was the start of people thinking that I was easy."

"It's just so unfair," he said, pained for the defenseless girl who had been betrayed by someone she considered a friend.

"Since then, I've never known if a guy was interested in me or in them, you know?"

"I can imagine."

"It got worse in high school. The boys were all over me, and the other girls hated me because I was so popular with the guys."

"Sounds like it was lonely for you."

"It was. After a while, I got sick of being alone all the time and decided to go out with one of them."

"How'd that go?"

"Just like I expected—him constantly trying to cop a feel and me constantly fending him off. After a while, he got pissed. He said he'd treated me well and it was time for me to return the favor."

"What the hell did that mean?"

"He demanded that I have sex with him."

"How old were you?

"I was fifteen."

"Jesus," he whispered. "What did you do?"

"I refused, because by then just being around him made me sick. He got so mad. For a few minutes, I legitimately thought he was going to hit me or something."

"Tell me that he didn't."

"No, but it might've been better if he had. Instead, he went to school the next day, and told everyone that I had sex with him and all of his friends on the beach the night before, and the Megan Mattress nickname was born."

Dean wanted to weep. "And none of the other guys spoke up to say it wasn't true? Not one?"

"They wouldn't have dared contradict him."

"Who was he?" Dean's chest contracted with familiar pains, but that was the least of his worries at the moment.

"I'm sure you don't know him…"

"Who was he?" he made an effort to keep his voice down when he wanted to roar.

"It was Baron Corbin."

A sharp pain took Dean's breath away. "He was my brother Elias's friend."

"Yes he was."

Dean's hand rolled into a fist. "Did he name my brother as one of the guys who were there that night?"

Megan's silence answered for her.

"And he didn't deny it?"

"None of them did."

"I'll kill him."

"Dean, really, it was a long time ago. It doesn't matter now."

"It does matter! Those rumors ruined your life."

"It was my fault for sticking around here after high school. I should've gone somewhere else as soon as I was old enough, but money was always an issue, and I couldn't leave my mother. Believe it or not, she has it in her head that she needs to be here in case my father comes back."

"Nothing about this is your fault, Meg. Nothing. "

"You're supposed to be relaxing, and not getting all upset."

Dean was so far beyond upset he wasn't even sure what to call it. "Who is Kyle's father?"

He could almost hear her thinking and deciding."

"Tell me, please?"

After another long pause, she said, "He was a guest at the hotel two winters ago. He was on vacation before spring training started, we got to be friends and bond over our love of baseball. One thing led to another…"

"Was he the first one, you know…"

"He was my first and only."

Dean released a long, deep breath. How could she say that Baron Corbin and his friends did to her hadn't ruined her life? She was twenty-eight the first time she'd had sex. "What happened with him?"

"Even though he's only a few years older than I am, he told me he had a vasectomy years ago, because he didn't want kids. I stupidly fell for that, thinking we had something special."

Dean wanted to cover his ears so he wouldn't have to hear about yet another terrible hurt.

"We were together twice before he texted me to say he had to get back to the mainland to take care of some business, but it'd been nice knowing me. He'd been gone three weeks when I realized I was pregnant."

"That bastard."

"I don't regret it. Kyle was the best thing to ever happen to me. I love him more than anything."

"His father should be helping you. Financially, at least."

"I'd never want him to know. What if he came back and tried to take Kyle from me? I'll never tell him."

So, the woman that everyone in town thought was the town tramp, had had sex exactly twice in her life. Dean churned with things he wished he could say and anger he didn't know what to do with. He wanted to find all the men who'd harmed her, starting with her deadbeat father, and pummel them until they hurt the way she had. Even that, however, wouldn't be enough. It would only be half of what they deserved.

"What're you thinking?" she asked tentatively. "You're so quiet."

Dean made an effort to keep the fury out of his voice. That wasn't what she needed from him after sharing secrets he suspected she probably hadn't shared with anyone but her sister. "You're one of the bravest people I've ever known, and I'm honored you told me all this."

"I'm not what they think I am."

His quiet dignity affected him more than anything else. "I already knew that."

"I didn't want to like you. You're Elias's brother and Linda's son. But you're not like them. You are so much better."

"Thank you, honey," he said, his voice hoarse with emotions he'd never felt quite so strongly before. That she had trusted him with her deepest secrets was one of the best gifts he'd ever received. He reached up for her hand and laced his fingers through hers. "I wish I could take a big broom and sweep away all the old hurts."

"You're sweet to want to."

"I really wish I could."

"No one's ever wanted to anything like that for me before."

"That's too bad, because you deserve to be happy."

She squeezed his hand. "I told you all my stuff. Now it's your turn; you have to tell me some of yours."

To lighten the mood, Dean regaled her with funny stories of growing up with three brothers and a sister that made her laugh, and he swore he made her cry when he told her about the injury that ended his amateur wrestling aspirations. As she continued to hold his hand, she asked about the women he'd dated, and he told her. After what she'd shared with him, keeping secrets from her—any secrets—just seemed foolish. By the time they ran out of conversation, the first hints of daylight were peeking through the windows, and his arm had fallen asleep hours ago, but still he held her hand. He'd never felt more energized by a sleepless night.

Megan couldn't find Kyle. He wasn't in his crib or at Paige's. She ran through the yard screaming for help, tears streaming down her face. Someone had taken him from her. The one person she truly loved. She screamed for him again, and fought the hands that tried to stop her from running down the street.

"Megan, honey! You're dreaming. Wake up!"

Dean. All at once, she was fully awake with sickening paid radiating from her knee and arm. He sat on the edge of her bed, brushing the hair off her face.

"Kyle," she said her voice rough with sleep and fear.

"He's sleeping in his crib."

"Will you make sure? Please?"

"Of course."

While he was gone, Megan tried to calm her racing heart and shaking hands. _Only a dream. Only a dream._

"He's fine," Dean reported. "Sound asleep." He returned to sit once again on the side of the bed. "Are you all right?"

"Yeah, just had a crazy dream."

"You seem to have a lot of those."

"I always have. Some are better than others." She recalled the dream about him the previous afternoon. That had been a good one.

He took her hand. "You are shaking."

"It was scary."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"No, thank you."

"Scoot over."

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me." He nudged her with his hip. "Come on now."

She moved to the far side of the bed and then gasped when it dipped under his weight. "W-what're you doing?"

"This." He said as he slid his arm under her and carefully brought her into his embrace, making sure to accommodate her injured arm and leg. By the time he had her all arranged, her face was pressed to his chest, and he held her snugly against him. Megan couldn't breathe from being this close to him, and she had nowhere to rest her sore hand but on his firm belly.

Brushing a kiss over her hair, he said, "Go back to sleep."

Um, yeah. Sure. With her senses overwhelmed by his sporty scent, the feel of his soft chest hair under her cheek and his hand caressing her back—how did he expect her to sleep?

"Its okay, Megan. Nothing will happen to you or Kyle while I'm here. I promise you that."

How could he know that was exactly what she needed to hear right then? That nothing he could've said would have meant more to her? Tears leaked from her closed eyes. She was so tired—and not just from the sleepless night. The heavy weight of responsibility resting on her fragile shoulders was enough sometimes to make her buckle under the strain. Now here was this man wanting to make it all better—even if just for a little while—and it was so very tempting to let him. Tomorrow she'd get back to fighting him off. For now, it felt too good to be held by him to think about fighting. She sank into Dean's embrace and absorbed the comfort he so willingly offered.

Dean didn't dare move. He'd had no idea how overwhelming it would be to hold her like this, to have her soft, fragrant hair brushing against his face, to have her body yield trustingly into his and, yes, to have her breasts pressed to his side…If she moved, even the slightest bit, she'd be able to feel what her closeness had done to him. So, Dean focused on breathing the way the doctor had taught him—in through the nose, out through the mouth.

"Does your chest hurt?" Her breath fanning his heated skin only added to the problem in his lap.

"No."

"Why are you breathing like that? Does something else hurt?"

Dean chuckled. She was so cute. "Nothing that'll kill me."

After a long pause, she suddenly got it. Gasping, she began to move away from him.

He tightened his hold on her. "Stay, please. I love holding you like this, but I can't help that having you so close turns me on."

"Oh."

In the waning darkness, he smiled. The innocent way she always said that single word was adorable, as if it was a huge surprise to her that she turned him on. She had no idea what she did to him, but apparently, she intended to find out. Her injured hand moved from his belly to his face, her fingers caressing his jaw. Dean swore his heart stopped while he waited to see what she would do next. "Megan…"

"Hmm?"

"What're you doing?"

"Touching you."

Jesus. Kill me now. He'd never been more painfully erect in his life. "Honey, you're going to be tired tomorrow, or I guess I should say today."

"It's okay; I've got someone covering for me at work.

He laughed. "That poor sucker."

"Mmm." Her fingers moved to his mouth, smoothing over his bottom lip in a light caress that once again stopped his heart.

Releasing a tortured groan, he held her tighter while being mindful of her injuries. They didn't seem to be bothering her at the moment.

"You're so handsome," she whispered.

Startled by the unexpected compliment, he cleared his throat. "Is that so?"

"Sure," she said, laughing. "Like you don't know."

"I had no idea until this very minute."

She poked his ribs, making him startle and then laugh again. "You're so full of it."

Brushing a soft kiss over her lips, he studied her face for a long time. "You're the most beautiful woman I've ever known."

"That can't possibly be true."

He stopped her from looking away and forced her to meet his gaze. "It's absolutely true."

Her fingers skimmed over his chest to his belly, which quivered under her tentative touch. Dean inhaled sharply as he reached out to stop her wandering hand. "Sleep."

Glancing at his watch, he discovered it was after five. For a long time, he lay there listening to the bleat of a foghorn and squawking seagulls before he finally fell into a deep sleep.

Kyle's crib chatter woke Dean at six-thirty. His eyes were gritty from lack of sleep, but when he remembered the night he'd spend with Megan, he was filled with energy and renewed determination to take care of her and Kyle. He moved slowly to extricate himself from her embrace without waking her. Pressing a kiss to her forehead, he brought the sheet up over her and went to find the baby bouncing in his crib.

Kyle let out a happy squeal when he saw Dean.

"Hey, buddy," Dean whispered. "You're up early." Dean scooped him up and carried him to the changing table, where he removed what felt like a twenty pound diaper. Amazing to think that just yesterday he'd never changed a diaper before, and now he handled the squirming baby like an expert-and didn't mind doing it. That was the odd part. He, Dean Ambrose, commitment-phobe and bachelor extraordinaire, was taking care of a baby and liking in.

"You and your mother have done quite a number on me, mister," he told the baby.

Kyle rewarded him with a smile full of new baby teeth and a good dose of drool. What a cutie. Dean changed him into a clean all-in-one shirt contraption that snapped between his legs and picked him up. Kyle grabbed a handful of Dean's chest hair and gave a healthy yank, bringing tears to Dean's eyes. "Yikes," he said. "No, no. That hurts."

Kyle's mischievous smile made Dean laugh. "You're a devil, aren't you? What do you say we let Mom sleep a while and take a walk?"

When the baby seemed to approve of the plan, Dean put him back in the crib for a few minutes so he could get ready. They snuck out of the apartment a short time later. Dean debated taking the stroller that was parked under the stairs but decided he'd rather carry the baby.

In town, workers swept and washed the sidewalks in front of the various establishments. Shopkeepers carted samples of their wares to the street and rolled back awnings. Dean and Kyle wandered down to the ferry landing where Captain Seth supervised the loading of a fuel truck onto one of the smaller ferries.

"Whoa, dude," Seth said when he saw Dean carrying the baby. "You work fast!"

"Very funny."

Seth toyed with Kyle's pudgy foot, earning a squeal from the baby. "Who've you got there?"

"This is Kyle and he's my friend Megan's son."

"And how long, exactly, has Megan been your 'friend'?"

"Since I knocked her off her bike about ten minutes after I left you yesterday."

"Aww, and now you've got yourself a little family. Isn't that sweet?"

"It's not like that." But wasn't it? "Exactly."

Seth barked with laughter and tugged cigarettes from his shirt pocket.

"You can't smoke in front of the baby," Dean said.

"Wow, look at you. All paternal and everything. Never thought I'd see the day."

"If you're quite finished, Kyle and I are going to grab some coffee. Would you like to join us?"

"He's kind of young for coffee, isn't he?"

Dean shot him a withering look. Seth checked his watch. "Yeah, I've got some time. My first run isn't until eight." He hollered for someone to take over for him and walked with Dean and Kyle up the hill to the South Harbor Diner. When Dean walked in with Kyle in his arms, everything came to a halt in the small restaurant, and every eye in the room landed on him.

"Good morning, everyone," Dean said.

Murmured greetings followed as Dean and Seth slid into a booth.

"Jeez, man, you've got the whole town buzzing," Seth said.

"Apparently."

Dean told Seth about what'd happened since yesterday while sharing tiny bites of corn muffin with Kyle. If the boy's bouncing antics were any indication, he loved the treat. Before long, the muffin was a pulverized mess of crumbs that Dean scrambled to contain. The kid moved fast!

"You know what people say about her, don't you?" Seth asked tentatively after hearing Dean's story.

"It's not true, Seth." He told his friend that Baron Corbin and the other boys, including Elias, had done to her.

Seth swore under his breath. "God, that's horrible." He leveled a steady look at Dean across the table. "What're you going to do about it?"

Dean appreciated that his old friend knew him so well. "I haven't decided yet. But I plan to have a chat with my brother, soon."

"Corbin owns an auto body shop out on Sunflower Road."

"That is good to know."

"He's still as much of a jerk as he was in school."

"Also, that is good to know."

"That's one cute baby," Seth said a bit wistfully.

"He really is."

"You're getting kind of involved here, huh?"

"I think that maybe I am." It still amazed Dean to realize all that had happened in the last twenty-four hours. "There's something about her to that gets to me. I just can't explain it."

Seth shrugged. "It happens to the best of us."

Dean knew he was referring to his feeling for Nikki. After spending time with Megan, he had a new appreciation for what it would be like to want someone who didn't return the sentiment. That thought struck a chord of fear in Dean. Suddenly, he needed to get back to her. He needed to see her, to reassure himself that what they'd shared during the long night had stated them down a path toward something important.

"I need to get Kyle back to his mom," Dean said, tossing some bills on the table. "Give me a ring when you have time to kill."

Seth raised an eyebrow as his lips quirked with amusement. "Sticking around for a while, are you?"

Dean glanced down at Kyle and then back at Seth. "It looks that way."

Tingling breasts woke Megan. Shifting in the bed, she moaned when her knee and elbow protested the movement. Her injuries hurt more this morning than they had the day before, if that was even possible. Ignoring the sharp blast of pain from her knee, she got up too fast and hobbled into Kyle's room. His crib was empty.

Megan gasped. Where were they? Where had he taken her son? Her heart racing and her throat tightening, she tried not to think about her terrifying dream as she went to the front door and looked down over Paige's yard. No sign of them.

"Oh, please," she whispered. "Please come back. Bring my baby back.

 _You don't really know him at all_ , the devil on her left shoulder said. _Of course you do_ , said the angel on the other shoulder. _You know him better than you ever knew the baby's father_. To which the devil said, _he could be anywhere by now_. Megan's panic mounted as she watched the day's first ferry clear the breakwater on its way to the mainland. The angel scoffed at the devil. _He'll be right back. You'll see._

As if she had waved a magic wand, a minute or two later, Dean came strolling down Paige's driveway holding Kyle. He carried a white bag in this other hand and kept up a steady flow of chatter with the baby. Even though she was furious with him for taking Kyle without her permission, she couldn't help but notice how completely focused he was on her son.

"There's Mommy," he said to Kyle on the way up the stairs.

They came in the door, and she reached for Kyle.

"Hey, whoa," Dean said. "Wait a minute honey. Sit down and I'll hand him to you."

"I'll just take him now."

"But your hand…"

"Please let me have my son."

Surprised by her sharp tone, he did as she asked. "Uh-oh, buddy. I think Mom's mad at us."

"I'm not mad at him." She returned to the sofa bed and painfully managed to arrange Kyle so her shirt was covering her breast and sighed with relief as he latched on for the one feeding she still managed to get in each day. Feeling exposed, she reached for the sheet and tugged it up over them.

Dean dropped the bag he'd been carrying on the kitchen table. "I brought you a muffin and some coffee." He turned to her. "I didn't know how you like it. Are you…"

"Am I feeding him? Yes."

"Oh," he didn't seem to know where to look.

"Don't take him again without telling me."

"I'm sorry. We wanted to let you sleep for a while. You were up late." His eyes finally met hers. He looked proprietary, as if he was gazing at something that belonged to him. Not knowing whether to be flattered or fearful, she looked away.

"I didn't like not knowing where he was."

"I'm sorry," he said again. "I should have left a note."

"You should have told me you were taking him."

"That would've required waking you up, which would've defeated the whole let-you-sleep-in purpose of our mission."

"Have you ever had an argument you didn't win?"

"Hmmm, not that I recall."

Megan growled in frustration, which startled Kyle, causing him to release her nipple. She resituated him and patted his bum to reassure him. Venturing a glance at Dean, she found him watching her with thinly veiled hunger that zipped through her like an electrical current, settling into a throb between her legs.

As if he knew exactly what he did to her just by looking at her that certain way, he sat on the edge of the bed.

Megan wished she could run away, but the twenty-pound baby anchored to her breast and the cut on her knee kept her from moving.

Kyle let out a cry to tell her that he was ready to move to the other side.

"Could you maybe, just turn away?" she asked.

"Do I have to?"

"Yes!"

Reluctantly, or so it seemed, Dean turned his back to her. "That's about the sexiest thing I've ever seen," he said in a strangled tone.

"You can't see anything."

"I have a very vivid imagination. Can I turn back now?"

"If you must."

He not only turned back, he put his hands on either side of her hips and leaned in so that his face was close to hers. "Kiss me."

"No," she said, turning away from him.

He took that as an invitation to lean over Kyle to nuzzle her neck.

She jolted. "Dean, stop!"

"Not until you kiss me."

"I haven't' even brushed my teeth," she muttered.

"I don't care." Turning her face, he rubbed his lips over hers. "You make me crazy, Megan. I've never wanted anyone the way that I want you."

"I wish you wouldn't say those things. Whatever you think is happening here, I don't want it."

"I don't believe you," he whispered against her neck, sending a shiver racing through her.

A knock on the door interrupted the intense moment. "We'll finish this later," he whispered, pressing one last kiss to her lips.

"No, we won't."

"Do you want to make a bet?"

Oh, that cocky smile of his made her so mad! He always got exactly what he wanted, which was just one more reason to resist him. Megan watched him swing open the door.

"Hey," he said. "Come in."

His friend Nattie stepped into the room. "Hi, Megan. How're you feeling?"

"Like I got knocked off my bike by a big oaf who wasn't watching where he was going," Megan said with a scowl for Dean.

"Cute," he said, flashing that irresistible grin of his.

Nattie giggled at their banter. "I'm glad I was able to help out today."

"What do you mean?" Megan asked.

"Oh," Dean said. "About that…I meant to tell you…"

"Tell me what?"

"Nattie agreed to hang out with you and Kyle while I'm at the hotel today."

"But I never asked her—"

"Because I asked her."

Megan walked a fine line between wanting to yell at him and not wanting to be rude to Nattie, who hadn't done anything more than agree to help her misguided friend.

"That's not necessary," Megan said. "We'll be fine by ourselves."

"But, honey, your hand—"

"Don't call me that! I'm not your honey, and it's not up to you to arrange a babysitter for me."

"I told you that I'm going to help you."

Megan wanted to scream but kept her voice even when she said, "You have helped me, but this is too much. I can't put Nattie out—"

"Oh, it's no problem. I love babies! My kids are teenagers now, and they're off with their friends today at the beach. I'd love the help out with Kyle."

"Don't you have a hotel to run?" Megan asked, aware that she now sounded ungrateful as well as rude.

"Today's my day off."

"Fabulous," Megan shot what she hoped was a hateful look at Dean.

He just smiled at her. "Great, then it's all worked out. I can't be late on my first day, so I'm going to head out." Leaning down, he tried to kiss her, but Megan turned away. "I'll be back to get you for dinner, so be ready by six."

"I'm not going to dinner."

"I'll see you then." He tweaked Kyle's foot and kissed Nattie's cheek on the way out the door. "You girls have fun."

"Oh, we will," Nattie assured him. "Don't worry about a thing."


	7. Chapter 7

****A/N****

 **Hey guys! Here is part two of chapter six. Hopefully you all liked part one. Just a side note, I just read a WWE Rumor about Dean Ambrose leaving after WrestleMania! I hope it's not true, because I love the character of Dean Ambrose. I always have. He's funny, passionate and always has great matches with others, especially Seth Rollins. Any who enjoy part two!**

They listened as Dean started his motorcycle and headed down the driveway to the main road.

"Ugh!" Megan said. "He's the most aggravating person I've ever met!"

Nattie raised an eyebrow. "Is that so?"

"He's bossy and pushy and –"

"He's totally smitten," Nattie said with a smug smile.

"What?"

"You heard me, Megan. He's got it bad for you."

"He does not."

"I've known him a long time, Megan. I've never seen him look at any woman the way he looks at you."

Unable to process that tidbit on top of all the other emotions storming inside of her, Megan shifted Kyle onto her shoulder and used her good hand to burp him.

Nattie perched on the end of the bed. "He's one of the best guys I know. You'd be a very lucky girl to end up with him."

"It'll never happen." Why was she even bothering to have this conversation? Like her relationship with Dean, it was pointless. "Linda Ambrose will never allow her golden boy to end up with the likes of me."

Nattie laughed. "The Ambrose brothers have made a blood sport of defying their mother all their lives. If she doesn't like you, that'll make you even more attractive to him."

"Great, that's just what I need, a guy who wants me only because his mother hates me."

"That's not the only reason he wants you."

"Right; he wants the same thing every other guy wants."

"You'll underestimate him if you think that poorly of him, Megan. Just look at what he's gone to do for you today. Do you think that just any guy would do that?"

Megan hated to admit that Nattie had a point, but she wasn't about to convince one of his oldest friends that she didn't' believe his intentions were entirely honorable. "You really don't have to stay if you have other stuff to do."

Nattie reached for Kyle. "There's nothing I'd rather do."

Dean couldn't believe it had finally happened to him, but he suspected he'd probably fallen in love with Megan at some point in the last twenty-four hours. Since he'd never been in love before, he couldn't say for sure. But he hadn't ever felt anything even close to what happened to him when she looked at him with those chocolate brown eyes that gave away her every emotion, especially those she didn't want him to see.

He'd never given much thought to being a father. He'd just assumed that, like the true love other people went crazy over, it wasn't going to happen for him, and he'd been fine with that. But now he was imagining playing baseball with Kyle and teaching him how to fish and drive a boat, and how to throw a football. How could it have happened so fast? That was the part he didn't get.

After nearly thirty-five entanglement-free years, here he was wrapped in a net so tight it should have been strangling him. Instead, as he steered the bike toward North Harbor, all he felt was exhilaration and determination to do whatever it took to make it work. She said she didn't' want it—didn't want him—but he'd show her how wrong she was. He knew she felt the same way about him. He knew it. Now he just had to find a way to convince her that his intentions were sincere.

A stab of fear early knocked him off the bike. What if he couldn't do it? What if she was just too scarred from past hurts to take a chance on him? What if he'd waited all this time to find her only to lose her before he ever had her? That couldn't happen. He wouldn't let it.

Shaking off those unpleasant thoughts, he took a right turn into the hotel parking lot. On the spacious front porch, decorated with white wicker furniture and pot that exploded with colorful, fragrant blooms, guest enjoyed morning coffee and a pristine view of North Harbor. Entering the hotel was like taking a step back in time: dark paneling on the walls and ceiling, potted palms, Victorian-era furniture and well-worn carpet. Large ceiling fans kept the harbor breeze moving through the lobby, dining room and lounge that made up the spacious first floor.

A sweeping staircase led to the second floor, and from that a small stairway took guests to the third floor. No elevators, no air conditioning and not a television or telephone to be found. Dean's mother, who managed the hotel, believed in providing a place where guests could truly escape the rigors or modern-day life.

Dean bounded downstairs to the housekeeping department. The smell of laundry detergent and the whir of washing machines and dryers greeting him as he made his way to Lana's office at the end of the long hallway.

She was just as he remembered her—wirey build, smooth face, a row of studs lining one ear and dyed bleach blonde hair that looked like it had been shocked into standing straight up. Dean and his brothers used to speculate endlessly about her sexuality. Tye was convinced that she was a lesbian, but Braun swore he once saw her making out with a guy on the town beach. That comment had brought about much moaning, groaning and eye scrubbing.

Lana lumbered to her feet to greet him with a fierce hug. As always, she reeked of cigarette smoke and cheap perfume. "Aren't you a sight for sore eyes?" she asked in that raspy smoker's voice that Elias imitated so well.

"How are you, Lana?"

"Oh you know arthritic and constipated. Nothing new."

Dean winced at the information overload. Tye would howl when he heard that one.

"What brings you down to the bowels?"

Interesting choice of words, he thought, suppressing an inappropriate chuckle. "I'm filling in for Megan Wright today." Over Lana's shoulder, he spied the time clock. "I need to punch in on her card."

Lana stared at him as if he'd lost his mind. "You can't be serious."

"I sure am. I knocked her off her bike by accident yesterday. She's banged up pretty bad and can't work. All she's worried about is losing her job, so I told her I'd cover for her until she can get back to it."

"But, you…you can't! Your people own this place. What will folks say?"

"What do I care?"

"You mother will care."

"That is her problem." Dean stepped around Lana, found Megan's time card and punched in. "Now, where am I supposed to be?"

They engaged in a visual standoff, but Dean refused to blink. Finally, Lana said, "I'll need to shift some things around."

"Whatever Megan normally does is fine. I don't want any special treatment."

Dean couldn't believe that Lana actually looked guilty and wondered what that was all about. He joined the other housekeepers, who were filling gigantic baskets in a crowded stockroom. He met Beth, Bayley, Alexa, Sasha, Dana and Ronda, all of whom were wearing yellow dresses and white aprons. Megan would look some kind of sexy in that getup, he thought before pushing the image aside and focusing on the filling of baskets. Dean wondered how some of them managed to carry the heavy load up three flights of stairs. He wondered how Megan did it.

Lana handed out room assignment sheets to the women and Dean. As he scanned the long list, it suddenly occurred to him that this wasn't going to be as easy as he'd thought.

"This is Dean," Lana said begrudgingly. He noted she didn't mention his last name, which was just as well. "He's filling in for Megan, who'll be out a couple of days."

The other women, who ranged from twenty-three to thirty-seven, gave him the onceover with a mixture of curiosity and blatant interest.

A young blonde sidled up to him. "What's wrong with Megan?" she whispered as Lana continued to bark out orders and reminders about Sunday changeover and DNA.

Keeping his voice down, Dean gave her the abbreviated version of the story.

"So you're filling in for her? That's so nice of you." She lowered her voice even further. "No one's ever nice to Megan. It makes me really made. She's just the sweetest girl."

"Yes, she is," Dean said, touched by the tiny woman's loyalty to Megan. It warmed him to know she had at least one friend on the island.

"Alexa!" Lana barked. "Are you listening to me?"

Alexa jumped slightly. "Yes, ma'am."

"Take room 303 from Dean's list," Lana said.

"It must be bad," Alexa whispered to him. "Megan always gets the grossest rooms."

Dean fumed when he heard that. Things were going to change around here after today. "That's not necessary, Lana," he said. "I've got it."

Alexa glanced up at him with an expression of awe and fear. Apparently, no one dared to cross the mighty Lana. To hell with that; his parents owned the place. She couldn't intimidate them.

"I want Alexa to do it."

"I'll do it."

Another visual standoff, and again Dean refused to blink.

"Fine," Lana said with a dismissive waive of her hand. "Have at it. Get to work, everyone."

Alexa took pity on him and helped him stock his basket. By the time he had everything he needed to clean the ten rooms on his list; he could barely lift the thing. He watched in amazement as Alexa lifted hers, propped it on her shoulder and headed for the stairs.

By the time he reached the third floor, his back was breaking and sweat rolled down his forehead. How does Megan do this? The hallway was stifling, and the lack of air-conditioning would make for a long, uncomfortable day. He decided to start with what promised to be the worst room on his list—303. On the ring of keys he'd been given, he found the one he needed took a deep breath and opened the door to hell.

The smell smacked him in the face, making him gag. Someone had puked all over one of the two beds, bottles and cans littered the floor and the bathroom floor was flooded. "Holy DNA," he muttered as he put a hand over his mouth and nose as he rushed to throw open the windows. As his stomach fought back a retch, his foot skidded on something. He looked down at a discarded condom on the floor. "Oh my God."

Dean turned to find Alexa standing at the door, looking sympathetic. "Megan always gets these rooms."

"Not anymore she won't."

Alexa glanced over her shoulder as if she was worried that Lana would appear at any second. "I'll help you."

"You don't have to do that. You have your own rooms to deal with."

"None of mine come close to this. Megan's my friend and you're doing her a favor, so please, let me help you."

Since Dean had no idea where to even begin, he sent her a grateful smile. "Thank you. I owe you one."


	8. Chapter 8

By the time Dean opened the door to his tenth and final room, he could safely say he'd never worked harder in his life. Even with Alexa's help, room 303 had taken two hours and all of Dean's plumbing skills to restore it to pristine condition. Alexa told him that guests who left such messes were permanently banned. Unfortunately, there were plenty of others just like them looking for a place to bust loose for a summer weekend.

When he saw nothing too gross or out of the ordinary in the last room, he breathed a sigh of relief. He'd already had enough contact with foreign DNA to last a lifetime. As he stripped the bed and quickly remade it, he decided something had to be done about eh deplorable way Megan was treated here. No wonder she'd called her employers bastards. They were!

"Are you having fun, darling?"

Speak of the devil and she will appear. His mother leaned against the door frame. "I'm having a blast."

"This is entirely inappropriate, but of course you know that."

"How is it inappropriate for me to help a friend?"

"She's not your friend! You just met her yesterday, for heaven's sake."

"Be careful, Mother. I'm not a child who needs you to define friendship for me."

"I just don't understand this, Dean. Why in the world would you want to lower yourself to" –she waved her hand around—"this…just to prove a point to me."

He stopped what he was doing to stare at her, incredulous. "It doesn't have anything to do with you! God, you're unbelievable! You think that everything revolves around you."

"I think no such thing."

"What I want to know is why does Megan get all of the shittiest, most disgusting rooms? Did that direction come right from you, or did Lana do that on her own?" He glanced at her just in time to catch her guilty expression. "That ends today, Mother. Do you hear me?"

"You can't come in here and start barking out orders."

"Do you want my help at the marina?"

She had the good grace to at least squirm a little. "You know that I do."

"Then you'll make sure she's treated fairly here from now on, or I swear to God, I won't lift a hammer down the street." He had no intention of making good on that threat, because he planned to help his father no matter what. But he could let her think he'd walk away if it meant improving Megan's working conditions.

"I can't imagine what has gotten into you to talk to me like this."

"I've gotten an eyeful of the way you treat one of your employees today, and I don't care for it."

"She's gotten her hooks into you, hasn't she?"

He released a short bark of laughter as he ran the duster over the tables and the dresser. "I wish."

"What the hell does that mean?"

"It means that she doesn't seem all that interested in me."

Linda expelled what sounded like a sigh of relief. "Oh, well, that's good I suppose."

Dean whirled around to face her. "No, it isn't. I like her. I really like her."

"Don't be ridiculous. You could have any woman you want. Just his morning, I talked to Kelly Kelly. She can't wait to meet you."

"What're you talking about?"

"I told her you're home, and she'd love to meet you. I said I'd set it up."

"That isn't happening. I don't need my mother arranging dates for me."

"You need something because that woman you're shacking up with in town is all wrong for you."

"That woman that I'm shacking up with is all right for me." Dean enjoyed watching his mother blanch. "In fact, she's more right for me that any woman I've ever met."

"You can't be serious, Dean."

Deciding that he's said enough for now, he grabbed the last of the towels from his basket and headed for the bathroom. "We'll see you at dinner." He poked his head out the door and made eye contact with her. "You be nice to her, or I swear, you won't' see me again for a long, long time."

"Honestly, I don't know what has happened to you."

"Believe me, you don't want to know." He'd fallen in love with a woman his mother had nothing but disdain for. Any doubt he'd had about the love part had disappeared during the long day at the hotel. He loved her. He wanted to be with her. He couldn't wait to see her again. He was going to do anything and everything he could to be with her. And if his mother didn't like it? Tough shit.

Dean limped out of the hotel at three-thirty. The long night without sleep, the long day without so much as a ten-minute break and the battle with his mother had left him weary and drained. He wanted to go straight back to Megan's and sleep until dinner. But first he needed to see his father, so he started the bike and headed for the marina.

The aroma of fried food and diesel fuel blended with sunscreen, dead fish and something being cook on a grill. A group of boys raced crabs down the ramp into the water, and their shrieks filled the air. Overhead, a flock of seagulls watched that actions onboard one of the big powerboats where they days' catch was being cleaned. Just another summer day at Ambrose's.

Vinnie Mac sat at one of the picnic tables outside the restaurant, surrounded by a crowd that hung on to his every word as he retold the story of hooking a great white in Long Island Sound—for what had to be the ten-thousandth time since it happened twenty years earlier.

"Not that old fish story again," Dean interjected.

His father's face lit up with delight. "Hey! Look who it is! Fellas, meet my oldest boy, Little Deano."

"Just Dean is fine." He shook hands with the other men. "I dropped the 'little' part years ago." To his father, he said, "Do you have time for a beer?"

"Hmm, fellas, what do you say? Do I have time for a beer with my son?"

"You do own the place," one of them said drolly.

"That I do. Luke!"

Luke appeared from behind the main building. "Yeah?"

"I'm cutting out, so you're in charge."

"Right."

"What happened with the shark?" one of the buys asked as Vinnie Mac got up.

"He got away," Dean said.

"Well, thank God for that."

"No shit," Vinnie Mac said with that winning smile of his. "I'll see you fellas around. Gotta go spend some time with my boy." He put his arm around Dean and led him to the Tiki Bar at the end of the main dock.

They pulled up stools at Vinnie Mac's latest brainstorm. The outdoor bar had been added two summers ago, and from what Dean had heard, it was turning a nice profit.

"Sara Lee, this here's my boy Dean. He drinks on the house while he's home. Two of my usual, please."

"Yes, sir, Mr. Vinnie," the pretty young bartender replied.

While she fetched the beers, Dean snorted behind his hand. "She calls you Mr. Vinnie?"

"She respects her elders. What can I say?"

Sara Lee put two frosty bottles down in front of them.

"Thank you, sweetheart," Vinnie Mac said without an ounce of guile. Only on Gansett Island could an employer get away with calling a female employee 'sweetheart.'

"My pleasure," she said with a toothy smile, and Dean could see that it was. Everyone loved his father. You couldn't spend ten minutes in his orbit and not be sucked into his effortless way with people he was the heart and soul of the place, and Dean couldn't imagine it without him.

Sara Lee moved to the far end of the bar to give them some privacy.

Vinnie Mac tapped his bottle against Dean's and then took a long drink.

"You're really gonna sell this place, Dad?"

"I think it's time," Vinnie Mac said, but Dean heard the sadness in his voice and saw it on his face. "Your mom wants to travel, get off the island some. You hear about people waiting too long to retire, then one of them gets sick…" Shrugging, he picked at the label on the beer bottle.

"I can't imagine someone else owning it, let alone run it."

"Believe me, neither can I, but I'm not gonna live forever, you know."

"Don't say that."

Vinnie Mac laughed. "Okay, I won't."

Slipping into contemplative silence, they looked out over the bustling pond, which had thinned out as it always did on Sunday afternoons.

"I love this time of day around here," Vinnie Mac said. "Everyone who is coming is in; everyone who is leaving is gone. Most of the work is done for the day. People want to hang out, pass the bull. Hardly feels like work most days."

Dean knew they came back year after year to see his father, to catch up on the news, to hear the latest stories. He had a way of making each guest feel special, as if he'd been waiting all season just for them to arrive. It occurred to Dean that no one could ever replace him.

They watched Luke guide a latecomer into a spot next to another powerboat the captain did a nice job of maneuvering the big boat into the tight space. After the boat was tied up, Luke and the captain exchanged a few words. The captain reached for his wallet, pressed a wad of cash into Luke's hand and nodded at something Luke said to him. Luke pocketed the cash and made his way back up to the main dock.

Dean watched the exchange with growing dismay. "Tell me that that money will make it into the till." He glanced over to find his father's face hard and unreadable.

"Eventually, I'm sure."

"But you don't know?"

"I hope."

"Dad! Is he ripping you off?"

"Nah, I pay him plenty. He doesn't need it."

Dean wanted to cause a scene, but knew that his father wouldn't appreciate it. You could bet he'd be keeping an eye on Luke while he worked on the renovations.

"You know, son," Vinnie Mac said tentatively, "if you have even the slightest interest in the place, all you have to do is say so. I'd never sell it if you wanted it."

Dean knew it, but hearing the words made it real. "I know that, Dad."

"Absolutely no pressure, though. I wouldn't want you to feel obligated. Island life isn't for everyone. Lord knows you and your brothers split the minute you were old enough."

"It looks a little different to me this time around, for some reason." The words were out of his mouth before Dean could ponder the consequences.

"Is that so?"

"Yeah, it is."

"Why do you think that is, I wonder?"

"I'm not sure; maybe I stayed away too long. Maybe because things in Vegas and on the road have been beyond insane lately. Or maybe it's because I met someone yesterday who has my head turned all around."

"Ahh," Vinnie Mac said with a satisfied grin. "Now we're getting to the heart of the matter."

Dean smiled. "Remember me asking you how I'd know when the right one came along? You said, 'You'll know, son. You'll just know."

"Sounds like something I would say."

"Well…"

Dean watched the awareness dawn on his father's face. "No kidding?"

Dean shrugged. His father's eyes went shiny. "It's about time," he said softly. "Wow, just like that?"

"I took one look at her and that was that."

"Are we talking about Megan who cleans up the hill?"

"Yeah," Dean said, still awed by the wonder of it all. Two days ago, he was in Las Vegas for the first time in almost two weeks on the road, and he didn't even know that she existed. Now his every hope and dream was somehow mixed up in her and her son.

"I don't know her real well, but she seems like a sweetheart of a gal," Vinnie Mac said. "She's had some tough breaks, though."

"She sure has, and because of that, she's kind of…skittish."

"You can't really blame her though. That father of hers…no one could believe it when he just walked away from his wife and kids. That's the thing about this place; you can jump on a ferry and run away from it all."

"I don't think she ever recovered from that."

"Who would?"

Dean decided to level with his father. "I'm kind of in uncharted territory here."

"How's that?"

"You're gonna laugh at me."

His father did just that. "Spill it, boy!"

"It's just that usually when I like someone, they tend to…" Dean combed his fingers impatiently through his hair as he searched for the words. "How can I say this without sounding like a total jackass?"

This time Vinnie Mac howled. "They tend to fall at your feet in gratitude that Dean Ambrose has chosen to give them the time of day?"

"That is not what I was going to say!"

His father continued to laugh at his own joke. "Am I warm though?"

"Sort of," Dean said begrudgingly.

That set his father off again.

"I'm glad you're getting such a kick out of this."

Vinnie Mac wiped the laughter tears from his eyes. "I'm very sorry, but I think it's a riot that you finally find one who makes your head spin and she could take or leave you."

"Well," Dean said, thinking of their passionate kisses, "I wouldn't say that exactly, but she doesn't seem to be jumping for joy that she's attracted my interest."

Vinnie Mac had the good grace to at least try to hide his smirk. "She's probably overwhelmed. A good-looking, self-assured guy like you would scare the pants off a gal who's been treated the way she has by other men."

"None of the stuff they say about her is true, Dad." He thought of his brother Elias and the conversation they needed to have soon. "None of it."

"Is that so? Interesting."

"What do I do? If she had her way, she'd send me packing, and I'd never see her again."

Vinnie Mac ran a hand over the white stubble on his jaw. "You gotta keep showing up, prove to her that you're different from all the others who've let her down."

"So I should make a nuisance of myself?"

"If that's what it takes, then yes."

"I think that is something that I can do," Mac said, settling into the idea. He'd done a pretty good job of it so far.

"Course you can, but don't grovel, son. Any woman would be lucky to have you. You remember that."

Dean smiled. He could always count on his father to be on his side. "So, would it be okay if, while I'm making a nuisance of myself with her, I try this place on for size for a while? No promises or anything."

Vinnie Mac squeezed his son's forearm. "That'd be more than okay with me."

"Don't say anything to Mom about what I said about Megan. She's got something against her, for some reason."

"I won't say a word."

Dean downed the rest of his beer. "Mind if I borrow your truck for the night? I'm bringing Megan and her son over to the house for dinner."

Vinnie Mac withdrew the keys from his shorts pocket. "Have at it."

Dean gave his father the key to the motorcycle. In an impulsive move, he leaned in and kissed his father's cheek. "Love you, Dad."

Vinnie Mac hugged him for a long moment.

Dean realized he'd rendered his old man speechless. "Thanks for the beer. I'll see you at dinner."

Dean parked the truck in Megan's driveway and went up the stairs to the small deck where Nattie was stretched out in a lounge chair, reading a book.

"Hey," she said. "You're back already?"

"Yeah; how's it going?"

"It's been great. They're both sacked out at the moment."

"Thank you so much for hanging out today. I really appreciate it."

"I actually enjoyed it. She's really very lovely. I'm sorry that I haven't taken the time before now to get to know her better."

Dean glanced at the door. "She could use a few friends in this town."

Nattie stashed her book in her tote bag and got up to give Dean a kiss on the cheek. "She doesn't know it yet, but she'd damned lucky to have you in her life."

Hit with an unusual burst of insecurity, Dean rolled his bottom lip between his teeth. "If she had her way, she'd never see me again."

"I don't think it'll take all that much to change her mind. You know what you need to do."

"Yeah." He thought of what his father had said about showing up and proving that he'd never let her down. "Thanks again, Nat." He gave her a hug and watched her walk down the driveway toward town, where she lived in a suite of rooms at the Beachcomber with her husband with her husband and two children.

Taking a deep breath, Dean opened the screen door and stepped inside. Megan lay on the bed with her uninjured arm hooked over her head and the sheet pulled up to her shoulders. It was the first time, he realized, that he'd seen her so unguarded. Moving carefully so as not to disturb her, he went to the bathroom, quickly showered off the grime from the long day and, wearing just his boxers, crawled into bed next to her, intending to sleep for at least an hours and a half of the two hours they had before they were due at his parent's house.

But then she turned toward him, slipped an arm around his waist and drew him in close to her. Steeped in her scent and softness, Dean was suddenly wide awake and fully erect. He had no idea if she was awake or having yet another of her vivid dreams. Curious as to what she would do, he put an arm around her and brought her as close to him as he dared. Her breath skittered across his chest, stirring him even more.

With his heart beating a rapid staccato, he couldn't move or breathe. This is love. Finally, he understood. This was what made sane men into fools. He smoothed his hand over her hair and down her back. She released a contented sigh and burrowed in closer, until her lips were pressed to his bare chest. Dean had never been happier in his life.

In her dream, Megan was falling. From where or what she didn't know, but the falling sensation had her flailing for traction. She woke up suddenly to find her pressed to a hard male chest. His now-familiar scent found its way through the sleepy fog in her brain.

Dean.

Where had he come from? She studied his strong, handsome face, slack with sleep, and wanted to kiss him all over. Had she ever felt that way about any man before? No. Never. He was so big and strong, and he held her just right. She couldn't even think about the pain radiating from her arm and leg when she was so wrapped up in his embrace. But then she remembered all the reasons why this was a bad idea and began to work her way free of him.

His arms tightened around her. "Stay," he muttered his voice groggy and sexy with sleep.

"I can't."

"Shh." He kept his eyes closed as he combed his fingers through her hair. God, she loved what he did that. "Stay with me. I need you."

All the fight went out of her when he said those words. No one had ever needed her before. Only Kyle, and as wonderful as that was, it wasn't the same as being needed by Dean Ambrose.

Megan didn't exactly relax, but she stopped trying to get away from him. After a long period of silence during which she reveled in the feel of his fingers spooling through her hair, she said, "How was it today?"

"It was very enlightening."

"What do you mean?"

"I see now why you think they're bastards."

Megan winced. "Dean, when I said that, I didn't know—"

"It's okay, honey. They treat you like crap, but that's going to change."

"What is going to change?" she asked, nervous about what he'd done.

"You won't get all of the worst rooms anymore."

"What did you do?"

"I had a little talk with my mother. It's all taken care of."

"You're going to get me fired."

"They wouldn't dare. You don't have to worry about that."

"Nattie mentioned a job today." Megan hadn't even allowed herself to think of the possibility…

Dean drew back so he could see her face. "What kind of job?"

"Head of housekeeping at the Beachcomber."

"Really? That's awesome, honey!"

She wanted to remind him once again that she wasn't his honey, but as they were lying in a bed together, it didn't' seem like the right time to mention it. "The woman who does the job now is retiring after this season. When Nattie found out that I've been working at Ambrose's for eight years, she offered me the job. It's full-time, year-round and with benefits."

"Wow! What did you say?"

"I told her that I had to think about it."

"What is there to think about? It would take care of a lot of your worries."

"She only offered it to me because of you."

"No way. Nattie's totally turned the place around. Remember how it was on the brink of bankruptcy ten or so years ago?"

Megan nodded.

"Libby brought it back to life. In fact, not too many people know this, but the owners made her a partner two years ago."

"Oh, good for her."

Dean linked his fingers through hers, careful as always not to touch her sore palm. "That's good for you if she offered you a job, it's because you're the right woman for it."

"You really think so?"

"OF course I do. I got a good idea of how hard you work today. Wouldn't it be nice to make more money and not have to work that hard?"

"It'd be different, that's for sure."

"So you'll do it?"

"I have friends at Ambrose's. People I've worked with for years."

"Nothing says you couldn't hire them away to work at the Beachcomber."

Megan smiled. "Then your mother would hate me even more."

"She doesn't hate you." He released her hand and looped a strand of her hair around his finger. "She just doesn't know you very well; yet."

"You aren't really going to make me go there for dinner, are you?"

"It will be fun."

"It will be torture."

"I will be right there with you the whole time."

"Do you promise?"

She couldn't get over the way he looked at her, as if she was everything he'd ever wanted. How was that possible? The warmth she saw in his cool blue eyes made her heart flutter with desire. If this was one of her crazy dreams, she hoped she never woke up.

"I promise." He caressed her face for a long moment before he leaned in to touch a tentative kiss to her lips.

Even knowing she could be making the biggest mistake of her life, Megan reached for him. Even knowing if he left her the way the others had, she might never recover, she kissed him. Even knowing he had a power over her that she'd never given anyone before him, she caressed his tongue with hers and loved the groan that rumbled through him.

Dean rolled them so he was on top of her, and then froze, tearing his lips free from hers. "Oh, man. I'm sorry. I got so carried away I forgot for a second about your cuts."

"It's okay. She sank her fingers into his hair and brought his mouth back to hers. Suddenly, she was a starving for more of the way he made her feel. She slid her good leg free of the sheet and hooked it around his much-longer leg.

"Megan," he whispered, his lips hovering just above hers. "God, you make me so crazy." Rocking against her, he drew a gasp from her and recaptured her mouth for the most carnal, sensuous kiss of her life. He used everything in his arsenal-tongue, lips and teeth—to devour her. She clung to him, certain that if she let go she'd be hurtled into space. Just when she thought she couldn't bear the intensity of the desire he'd stirred in her for another second, he softened the kiss and destroyed her with tenderness.

His lips sank into hers before moving over her face, her nose, her eyelids and then down to her neck. Megan shuddered as sensation after sensation zipped through her, settling into a throb of desire between her legs. She wanted him just as much as he wanted her, but still the fear outweighed the desire.

"I could kiss you forever," he whispered, "and never get enough."

"You frighten me," she replied in the same soft tone.

His entire body tensed. The mouth that had been toying so deliciously with her ear went still. He raised his head to meet her eyes. "I do?"

As she stopped him from shifting off her, she realized he thought she meant physically. If only it was that simple. "You make me want things I decided a long time ago weren't in the cards for me."

Awareness dawned on him, and he relaxed a bit. "Maybe life has dealt you a new hand. A better hand; isn't that possible?"

"I've learned not to gamble. It doesn't work out well for me."

"I wish there was something I could say or do to convince you that you can trust me."

"I wish there was, too."

"You're making me pay for things other people did to you."

"I know that."

"It isn't really fair."

Unable to resist the urge to touch him, she brushed the hair off his forehead, delighting in the silky feel of it. "I know that, too."

"I'm going to show you." He shifted off her to lie on his back next to her but kept a firm grip on her hand.

Glancing down, she noticed his still-impressive erection and quickly brought her eyes back to his face. She had to acknowledge that unlike most me she'd known in the past, he didn't seem to be driven solely by the whims of his little brain. "Show me what?"

"That I'm different and that you can trust me."

"I don't want you to think I don't appreciate—"

"I have no interest in your appreciation." He turned his head so he could see her. "I want so much more than that from you."

She studied the face she'd grown so fond of so quickly. Already he was more familiar to her than people she'd known all her life. "Why me?"

His mouth quirked at the corners. "Because."

"That's all you've got?"

Shrugging, he said, "If I told you all the reasons, you'd run screaming for your life."

"Try me; give me one good reason."

Dean rubbed at the stubble on his chin as he gave that some thought. Then he turned those formidable blue eyes on her, and the blood heated in her veins. "Promise you won't run screaming?"

Megan gestured to the bandage on her leg. "I promise that I won't run screaming."

He brought their joined hands to his lips and pressed a kiss to her palm. "Being around you makes me breathless and needy and horny as hell, but that's only the start of it. You make me want to be a better man so I'll deserve you and Kyle."

Megan stared at him. No one had ever said such things to her.

"How was that?" he asked after a long period of silence.

She wished she had words to match what he'd given her, but her brain had turned to mush along with the rest of her. Clearing her throat, she said, "It was pretty good."

Dean winced. "Only pretty good? Well, at least you didn't run off screaming." He glanced at his watch and groaned. "We need to get going or we'll be late."

Megan desperately wanted to convince him to stay right here where everything felt safe and a tad bit magical. She feared their bubble would burst the minute they let others inside. "You must be so tired."

"I'll sleep well tonight unless you decide to talk my ear off again."

Megan laughed as she play-punched his shoulder. "I can't believe you said that!" She sat up slowly and painfully.

"We should see those wounds."

"Nattie did it earlier after I took a shower. She said the one on my elbow looked like it might be infected.

"I want to see it."

"You can see it later. I need to get Kyle up, or he'll be awake all night."

Dean bounced off the bed and headed for Kyle's room. "I'll do it. You can take it easy."

Megan sat there for a long time after he left the room, thinking about what he'd said and wishing she had it in her to believe they really had a chance.


	9. Chapter 9

She didn't say a word on the ride to North Harbor. With Kyle in his car seat between them, Dean tried to engage her in conversation that went nowhere. Instead, she stared out the passenger-side window, and he wondered if he'd made a huge mistake insisting that she join him for dinner at his parents' house. She'd fretted for half an hour over what to wear and had finally settled on a royal purple t-shirt and a denim miniskirt that showed off her long, toned legs. Nattie must've painted her toes, because Dean didn't recall seeing the black polish on them the day before—and he was fairly certain he'd noticed everything about her. Half a mile from him parents' house, Dean pulled the truck over to the side of the road.

"What're you doing?"

"Do you really not want to go? We can go back to your place, get a pizza from Santino's and rent a movie—"

She startled and amused him when she reached over to squish his lips shut. "After I went through all that to figure out what to wear, we're going to your mother's. Now drive."

Dean smiled at her show of bravado. He had no doubt she'd much prefer the pizza and move. "Yes, ma'am."

Her bravado had faded again by the time they pulled up to the big white house. Dean freed Kyle from his car seat and carried him around to the other side of the car to help Megan. "Take your time, honey," he said, moved by the flash of pain that crossed her face as she slid down the cab.

She clutched his arm. "Just stay close, okay?"

"I will, I promise." Before they stepped into the light, he stopped her, tilted her chin up and kissed her. "You're here because I want them to know you're important to me. If anyone makes you feel uncomfortable, we'll leave, okay?"

"I don't want to cause trouble between you and your family."

"You won't."

"If you say so," she said as they stepped through the gate into the light.

"I do say so."

Vinnie Mac met them at the door. "Come in, come in." He greeted Megan with a kiss on her cheek and tickled the bottom of Kyle's foot, drawing a deep chortle from the baby.

"Looks good on you, son," Vinnie Mac said with a nod to the baby on Dean's hip.

"He's a cool little dude." Dean felt a surge of pride as he showed off the baby. "He is always happy."

"I didn't know what you liked to drink, Megan. " Vinnie Mac ushered them into the formal living room Linda reserved for company. Dean and Megan sat together on the sofa. "So I got three kinds of wine and three kinds of beer." He ticked them off on his fingers.

Dean could tell that Megan was touched by his father's attentiveness, and while it was odd to be treated as a guest in the house where he grew up, he appreciated the warm welcome his father had given her. She turned those big chocolate brown eyes on him, and is belly fluttered with awareness. "What're you having?"

"I'll have a glass of wine, please."

"That sounds good to me, too."

"Two glasses of wine, coming right up," Vinnie Mac said. "Is the baby all set?"

"Yes," she said. "Thank you."

When they were alone, Dean squeezed her hand. "So far so good?"

"Your father is very sweet. I haven't' really talked to him before. He's never here when I clean."

"He's the best guy I know."

Nikki came bursting through the front door. "Hey! Sorry I'm late." She stopped short when she saw Dean, Megan and Kyle on the sofa. "Oh well; you're front-room company now, big brother?"

"Apparently," Dean rose to kiss his sister on the cheek. "This is Kyle."

"Wow, what a doll!" Nikki extended a finger, and Kyle wrapped his hand around it while studying her with the serious expression he used to size up new people.

"I don't think you know Megan," Dean said.

"We knew each other years ago in school," Nikki said. "It's nice to see you."

"You, too. Congratulations on your engagement."

Nikki flashed a grin. "Thank you; it has been the longest engagement in the history of the world."

"The big day will be here before you know it, brat," Dean said.

"Until then, I have to be satisfied with a monthly booty call," she said with a long-suffering sigh.

Dean cringed. "I don't know why you have to say that stuff to me."

"Because it makes you nuts," Nikki said, laughing.

Dean glanced at Megan, who sent him a sympathetic smile. "My baby sister," he grumbled as he rejoined her on the sofa. "It's horrifying."

Vinnie Mac came back into the room with three glasses of wine, and handed two of them to Dean and Megan. "Hi, honey," he said, kissing Nikki on the cheek. "I suppose you'll want my wine?"

She plucked it out of his hand. "But of course."

Vinnie Mac shook his head and glanced at Megan. "See what I have to put up with?"

Megan responded with a girlish giggle, and Dean could tell his father had already won her over. Vinnie Mac left the room muttering about a man not able to get a drink in his own house and returned a minute later with Linda, who he seemed to propel ahead of him into the room.

"There you are," Linda said, swooping in to kiss Dean. "And Megan, hello, how're you feeling?"

"A little better, Mrs. Ambrose. Thank you for having me."

Linda's smile was brittle, but Dean was certain only her family would know that it was less than genuine. "It's my pleasure. This must be Kyle, who I've heard so much about."

As he thrust the baby up and into his mother's arms, Dean hoped she wasn't referring to the speculation around town about the baby's father.

"Oh," Linda sputtered. "My. Well. You're a cute little fella, aren't you?"

Kyle picked that moment to loudly fill his diaper. Nikki howled with laughter. Megan gasped, tried to get up quickly and grimaced when her injured limbs refused to cooperate.

Dean eased her back down. "I've got it."

"You don't want to deal with that."

"Believe me, it's the least of what I've dealt with today." He took the baby from his mother and grabbed the diaper bag. "Come on, pal. Let's get you cleaned up." Before he left the room, he noticed his father and sister watching him with nothing but amusement while his mother fumed. Dean was torn between needing to tend to the baby and not wanting to leave Megan.

"We'll take good care of Megan," Vinnie Mac said.

"Thanks, Dad." On the way up the stairs, Dean caught Megan's eye and winked at her. "I'll be quick."

She sent him a grateful smile that warmed him all the way through.

Over the pot roast dinner Dean had requested, Megan stayed quiet and listened to their banter. Dean clearly adored his father and sister, as well as his three brothers. Megan found it interesting that he tended to give Linda one-word answers but engaged more naturally with his father and sister. He kept Kyle on his lap and managed to eat with one hand in a manner that was more common after months—rather than days—of practice.

Megan wondered if anyone else noticed that Linda completely ignored her as she managed to work a list of the island's most eligible women into conversations. Megan could definitely see Dean with someone like Kelly Kelly or one of the other prominent women Linda mentioned. At least with Kelly, he'd be on equal social footing and wouldn't be fodder for the gossip mill the way he would with her. The idea of him with someone else saddened her, which was ridiculous, really. It wasn't like he belonged to her or anything. What was she even doing here, eating at this table in the house where she was hired help? Dean's hand landed on her thigh. Stirred by his touch, as always, she glanced over at him.

"Is everything all right?"

"Of course," she managed to say, but she could tell he didn't believe her.

"Mom," Nikki said, "maybe you should can the social register for tonight. Dean is here with a date. He doesn't want to hear about other women."

Dean sent his sister a grateful smile.

"No one told me they were on a date." Linda's frosty eyes skipped over Megan and landed on her son. "I thought we were just having dinner."

"I believe I was quite clear about that when we spoke earlier," he said, apparently capable of the frosty stare himself.

Megan's stomach began to hurt.

"What'd you make for dessert, Lin?" Vinnie Mac asked with a warm smile for Megan.

"Chocolate cake for Dean."

"Kyle is getting tired," Dean said. "We aren't staying for dessert.

Kyle was fine, but Megan appreciated that somehow Dean sensed that she wasn't.

"You can't go yet!" Linda said. "You just got here."

"We need to get the baby home, and Megan is still recovering from her injuries."

"She looks fine to me."

Dean got up and helped her out of her chair. "She's not fine. I probably shouldn't have dragged her out tonight." To his sister, Dean said, "Will you please help Mom clean up?"

"I sure can." Nikki got up to kiss him good-bye. To Megan, she said, "If you ever need a babysitter for that cute little guy, call me."

"That is very sweet of you," Megan said as Nikki and her father started clearing the table.

Dean escorted Megan to the front hall. "I just realized I forgot the diaper bag upstairs. I'll be right back." Still holding Kyle, he dashed up the stairs. As she watched him go, Megan noticed the bruise on his leg from the bike crash had gotten dark and angry-looking overnight.

"You're fooling yourself," Linda said in an exaggerated whisper.

Startled, Megan turned to her. "Excuse me?"

"He might be having fun playing house for now, but you'll never get him to stay."

Shocked, Megan had no idea what to say and was relieved to hear Dean's heavy footsteps on the stairs. She needed to get out of there. Right now. Even though she desperately needed the money, she decided she'd never clean this house again.

"Are you ready, honey?" Dean said, with his hand on the small of her back.

"Thank you again for dinner," Megan said on her way out the door.

Dean gave his mother a kiss on the cheek. "Thank you, Mom."

On the way back to town, Megan's heart beat fast with shock and dismay. Part of her wanted to take him home and have her wicked way with him, just to prove Linda wrong. If she wouldn't be risking her own well-protected heart, she'd do it in a minute. She ventured a glance over at him. His eyes were fixed on the road, his jaw tight with tension.

"That was a mistake," he said.

"It was fine."

"No, it wasn't." He reached over Kyle's seat for her hand. "Don't hold my mother against me. She has no power over me whatsoever, and she hates that."

Megan didn't know what to say. Sure, he was his own man, and his mother couldn't tell him what to do. But Linda could make their lives miserable if she chose to, and Dean was the kind of son who wanted to please his parents, not alienate them. Megan had no desire to be responsible for a rift between Dean and his mother, which was just another reason not to let things with him, get out of hand.

"What're you thinking?" he asked.

"That I'm tired and I hurt." He didn't need to know the pain was mostly on the inside.

He winced. "I'm sorry. We'll get you home and into bed. I shouldn't have dragged you out tonight. Next time, I will listen to you."

There won't be a next time, Megan thought, filled with sadness. She knew that to pursuing a relationship with him was the right thing for both of them. If only it didn't hurt so much to think about never seeing him again after he moved out.

Dean beat himself up all the way back to town. What the hell was I thinking? It was just a huge, huge mistake. Back at Megan's, Dean helped her out of the truck and noticed she was moving even slower than he had earlier. We should've stayed home and had pizza; damn it!

As he carried Kyle and walked slowly up the stairs with Megan, Dean tried to think of how he could undo the damage this night had done to their fledgling relationship. What could he say? What should he do? Unaccustomed to feeling so insecure around a woman, he had no idea what to do.

"I'll give him a quick bath and get him ready for bed," he offered.

"Thank you."

The night before, she would've argued with him. Dean found he much preferred the arguments to this weary acceptance. He moved quickly to take care of Kyle and brought him and his last bottle of the day to Megan. Dean wanted to stretch out next to them on the sofa bed and hold her while she fed the baby, but instead, he straightened the apartment and gathered the growing pile of laundry the three of them had generated.

"I'll toss this in at the marina when I go to work tomorrow."

"You don't have to do ours—"

He bit back a burst of temper. "It's no problem."

When she didn't fire back, he knew it was bad. Whatever progress they'd made had been undone by a couple of hours with his mother. She was quiet, docile even. Not at all like the Megan he'd enjoyed sparring with the last two days. He discovered he didn't like her this way, even if it was easier. He wanted his smart-mouthed Megan back.

After he to Kyle settled in his crib, he returned to the living room, where Megan had removed her bandages. The wound on her elbow had gotten pink and puffy with infection since Dean last saw it. "We should probably get that looked at."

"Nattie gave me some antibiotic ointment to put on it."

Dean reached for the tube. "I'll do it."

She took it from him. "I couldn't bear to have someone else touch it."

Because it hurt or because it was him? Frustrated, he watched her dab the clear ointment gingerly on the angry-looking cut. Then she did the same to her knee and hand.

"Nattie said I should leave them uncovered tonight to let the air get to them."

"She knows what she's talking about. She's had a lot of medical training." Dean stood, peeled off his t-shirt and tossed it into the pile of laundry. Turning, he caught Megan starting at him with a needy, hungry look on her face. He took a step toward her. "Megan—"

Her expression shifted immediately to that impassive, unreachable thing she did so well. "Would you mind terribly sleeping on the floor tonight? I don't even want the sheet to touch me."

Tension lodged in his chest. "Of course not." He set out the couch cushions and unrolled his sleeping bag. When they were both settled, he reached up to turn off the light. Unlike the night before, there was no conversation. Earlier in the day, he'd been happier and more content than he'd ever been in his life. Now, even though he was as tired as he'd been in ages, Dean lay awake for a long time feeling edgy and desperate—as if he had somehow managed to lose something he'd never really had in the first place.

Over the next three days, they slid into a routine that began with Dean taking Kyle on a morning walk for coffee and breakfast. After Megan nursed the baby, Dean delivered him to Paige's, rushed through Megan's shifts at the hotel and spent as much time as he could at the marina, measuring and outlining the needed repairs. He planned to start on the roof of the main building and had a four-man crew lined up to help him beginning the following Monday. By three o'clock each day, he was back at Megan's to help out at Paige's daycare.

He spend the nights on Megan's floor, wishing they could somehow get back to where they'd been before he made the mistake of subjecting her to his mother. Wednesday evening, after they finished up at the daycare, Dean suggested they walk over to Santino's for pizza. Because Megan was finally getting around much better, she agreed.

By now, people in town had grown accustomed to seeing them together, and while they still attracted some stares, Dean and learned to ignore the unwanted attention. He wasn't sure Megan was able to ignore it, but she hadn't mentioned it to him. In fact, she hadn't said much of anything at all to him in three days. She seemed to be biding her time until she could be rid of him, and with every passing day, Dean's desperation grew more intense.

He'd tried to give her some space to get used to him and the idea that he was interested in her. But like the disastrous dinner at his parent's house, that, too, had backfired on him. The more space he gave her, the more remote she became, until he was certain he would explode if something didn't change—soon.

"Tomorrow's your day off at the hotel, right?" he asked.

"Yes and the daycare. Tiffany doesn't teach dance on Thursdays. That's when I usually clean your mother's house."

"I have to go to the mainland for some building supplies. I thought maybe you and Kyle would like to come. We could go anywhere you want to while we're over there."

He watched the debate play out on her face—wistfulness, yearning, nervousness and, final, resignation.

"Thanks, but I think I'll just stay here with Kyle. I'm feeling much better. There is really no need for you to take care of us anymore."

Dean had never experienced such pain before. Reaching for her good hand, he linked his fingers with hers and watched her take a nervous look around the crowded restaurant. "Come with me, please? It'll be fun. We can buy Kyle some new big-boy clothes and a bike. Oh, and a football. He needs a football. I noticed that he doesn't have one."

That drew a tentative smile. "He can't even walk yet."

"It won't be long now."

"I don't know," she said with a worried glance at the baby, who sat on Dean's lap like he belonged there.

He squeezed her hand. "Come with me. It'll do you some good to get off the island for a day." Knowing most of her expressions by now, Dean could tell that she was tempted. He flashed his most charming grin. "Come on…"

"All right! Fine, we can go. God, you're relentless!"

Swamped with relief, Dean sat back in the booth but didn't release her hand. "Good." It wasn't' a breakthrough exactly, but it was one more day together. Right about now, he'd take it.

Thanks to his connections with Seth, Dean was able to get his father's truck on the first boat off the island at eight the next morning. Seth invited them to join him in the wheelhouse, but Dean wanted as much time alone with Megan as he could get, so he declined.

"Watch got going on there, pal?" Seth asked with a grin as Dean bought their tickets.

"Hopefully, the most important thing I'll ever do in my life."

Seth's eyes nearly fell out of his head. "No way."

Dean glanced over at Megan, who was watching the seagulls with Kyle while she waited for Dean to drive the truck on the boat. "Yes, way."

Once onboard, they stood on the bow of the ferry, where a light spray hit them every time the boat crested a wave. Kyle loved the air, the water and the motion of the ferry. Dean kept a firm grip on him as they stood at the rail.

"This is nice," Megan said, looking more tranquil than he'd ever seen her as they watched the northern end of the island disappear into the morning fog. He'd known that getting her off the island would be good for her. He hoped it would also be good for them.

"When was the last time you were able to get off the island?"

Megan thought about that. "About a year ago, I think. Before Kyle was born."

"That'd make me nuts! Don't' you ever feel confined?"

She shrugged. "I've gotten used to it."

"You know, it's funny, when I live here as a kid, I couldn't leave if I felt confined. It would be totally different as an adult. I could leave any damned time I wanted to." He laughed at the somewhat major revelation. "That never occurred to me until right this second."

Megan flashed him a rueful smile. "The confinement used to drive me crazy, especially when I wanted to go to college. I didn't have the money to pay tuition and live there, too, and it wasn't' like I could commute."

"I've never thought about that before." Of course he hadn't. He'd gone to college on a full athletic scholarship and never once had to worry about paying for it. "What would you have studied?"

"Maybe oceanography or biology; something to do with the water. I've always been obsessed by anything involving the ocean."

Fascinated by this new insight, Dean studied her face as she stared out at the water, lost in thought. "There're online courses you could take."

"I was halfway through an online associate's program when I got pregnant." She took Kyle's hand and smiled warmly at the baby, making Dean jealous. "Now, I have other priorities."

He wanted her to direct that dazzling smile at him. What he wouldn't give for just one genuine smile, the one that engaged her eyes as well as her full, sexy mouth. "Maybe you can go back and finish someday."

"Maybe, one day."

They docked just after nine into the fishing village of Galilee on Rhode Island's south shore. With Kyle in his car seat and Megan riding shotgun, Dean drove the truck off the ferry into the crowded port.

"How about some breakfast and then we can do whatever you want?" Dean suggested.

"Sure, that sounds good."

Over eggs and toast at a greasy spoon, he asked where she wanted to go.

She hesitated, but only for a moment. "The mall," she said with a delightfully girlish grin. Thrilled to see her playful side reemerged after three days of distance, Dean Ambrose—a man who had never once willingly stepped foot in a shopping mall—took his lady to the biggest, brightest, and busiest mall in the state of Rhode Island.

Megan loved the excitement and elegance of the Providence Place Mall. A ruthless bargain shopper, she haunted the sale racks in all the children's clothing stores and got some nice deals on summer clothes for Kyle. Worried as always about her finances, she bought nothing for herself.

Pushing Kyle in the stroller they'd brought from the island, Dean followed her around with unwavering patience. He never rushed her or showed an ounce of displeasure, but she knew he had to be hating every minute of this. Mindful that he had things he needed to get done that day, she glanced up at him. "I'm all set if you want to go."

His brows narrowed over those steel-blue eyes. "We just got here. You haven't looked at anything for yourself."

"I don't need anything."

"Kyle and I are going for a walk. We'll meet you back her in an hour."

"Wat will you do with all that time?"

"I need to pick up a few things Nikki asked me to get."

Megan nibbled on her thumbnail as she studied him. "Are you sure?"

He leaned in and kissed her cheek. "Go and have fun. Spend some money, because that is what credit cards are for."

Laughing, she didn't even mind the kiss that zipped through her like a live wire. "You are a bad influence."

"Thank you; now go!"

An hour to herself in a mall! Flitting from store to store, she bought a few new tops and some jeans. She gave herself one hour off from worrying about money, and stocked up on underwear, bras and socks. Outside Victoria's Secret, she stared longingly at a royal purple silk nightgown in the window that would look ridiculous on her. Still, it was fun to look and to imagine…

When she met Dean at the designated spot, she discovered that he, too, had put the hour to good use. The basket under Kyle's stroller was full to overflowing with bags. She saw a baseball bat sticking out of the top of one of them. When she raised a questioning eyebrow, he replied with a shrug and an adorably sheepish grin. Mixed in with the others, a pink-striped bag caught her attention. "You bought something for Nikki at Victoria's Secret?"

"It's not for Nikki," he said with a secretive smile.

Megan's knees weakened. What had he done? She had no idea, but she wasn't about to ask him. She'd learned not to encourage his outrageous behavior.

"Are you ready to go?" he asked, sliding an arm around her shoulders.

"Yes," as they walked to the parking garage, Megan glanced up at him. "Thank you."

He kissed the top of her head. "My pleasure, honey."

Dean took the long way back to the ferry, driving them through Newport to stop at the carousel at First Beach. Kyle loved the merry-go-round, and Dean sprang for five rides before Megan reminded him of the time. They had a ferry to catch.

"You're totally spoiling him," Megan said as they set out across the Newport Bridge to the lumber supply place. And me, she wanted to add but didn't.

"So?"

"I'd hate to get him used to it. This time next week he'll be back to his boring life, wondering where his sugar daddy has gone." The instant the words were out of her mouth, Megan regretted them. To refer to Dean as Kyle's daddy, even as a joke, was so wrong and unfair. She could see that Dean was becoming attached to her son and vice versa.

"I'm not going anywhere," he said, but his hand tightened on the wheel."

"You're going back to Las Vegas and back out on the road."

"Not anytime soon."

Megan didn't want to feel relieved, but the more time she spent with him, the more she wished she could keep him forever. She'd never known a man so thoughtful and caring and sincere. Add that he was sexy as hell, and he became one heck of an irresistible package. During their lovely day together, she'd begun to feel like a fool for resisting him. Maybe she should give in and have a rip-roaring affair with him. The whole town thought she already was, so why not go for it? At least then, after he went home to Las Vegas, she'd have the memories to sustain her. But what would sustain her heart if she gave even a portion of it to him?

Too late, the devil on her left should said. You already have.


	10. Chapter 10

****A/N****

 **Thank you for the reviews guys! Keep them coming! I love reading them all. Enjoy the last chapter for the weekend. I'll see you all Monday.**

Tucked into his stroller, Kyle slept on the ferry ride back to Gansett. Sleepy herself after the nicest day she'd had in years, Megan let her head drop to Dean's shoulder. He put his arm around her and settled her against his chest. Megan was letting her eyes drift shut when they connected with a familiar face on the other side of the ferry.

He smiled at her.

Megan gasped.

"What, honey?" Dean asked.

"Oh, my God," she whispered. "Kyle's father." Automatically, she brought the stroller closer to her.

As the tall, dark-haired man approached them, Megan straightened, and her heart began to hammer in her chest. She noticed he had a bushier beard than the last time she'd seen him, but otherwise he hadn't changed.

Dean tightened his around her.

"I thought that was you, Megan. How are you?"

Momentarily paralyzed, she couldn't form a rational thought. "I'm…ah..I'm good."

He glanced at Dean, and Megan remembered her manners. "Kyle Schwarber, this is, um—"

Dean extended his right hand. "Dean Ambrose, Megan's husband." He gestured to the stroller. "Our son, Kris. Nice to meet you."

Twisting her head, Megan stared at Dean, but he just gave her a bland look that said, 'just roll with it.'

"You're married, "Kyle said with a charming smile that had convinced her to part with her virginity—not that he'd ever figured that out. "Well, that's disappointing."

"Excuse me?" Megan asked in a strangled tone.

"I was on my way to see you."

"Oh,"

"Yeah, my bad," he said with what seemed like genuine regret. "I guess I waited too long."

"Megan's not the kind of girl you let get away," Dean said.

Megan's breath got caught in her throat when Kyle leaned over to peek in at the sleeping baby.

"He's a beautiful baby."

"Thanks," Dean said. "We like him."

Good answer, Megan thought, grateful that he could speak, because she was incapable at the moment. Her heart was beating so fast, she wondered if it would explode in her chest.

"You are a lucky man," Kyle said to Dean.

"Oh, believe me, I know."

"It was good to see you, Megan."

She cleared her throat and stuck her shaking hands between her knees. "Yeah, it was good to see you too."

"Good luck to you both."

"Same to you."

Kyle walked away, and Megan sagged with relief. She'd imagined this moment a million times, expecting him to take one look at his son and just know. But he hadn't. Because Dean had been so quick to say just the right thing, Kyle had never even entertained the possibility.

Dean held her tight against him. "Breathe, baby," he whispered in her ear, raising goose bumps on her suddenly sensitive skin. "It's all over; take a deep breath."

Megan did as he said, and it helped to slow her galloping heart.

"You gave him his father's name."

"I wanted him to have something from him."

"I understand."

She glanced at him, the contact with his beautiful eyes filling her with an overwhelming awareness of him, of what he seemed to feel for her, of what she was beginning to feel for him. "I've been saying this a lot lately, but thank you for what you just did."

He tilted her chin and laid a soft, wet kiss on her lips. "It was my pleasure."

After Dean got Kyle settled in his crib to finish his nap, he turned to Megan, who had followed him in to the bedroom. "GO out with me tonight."

She rolled her bottom lip between her teeth. "Like on a date?"

He took a step toward her. "Uh-huh; a real date."

"We were out all day. I can't leave Kyle."

Another step. "My sister will watch him; she'll love it." To hell with giving her space, he wanted her to be in his arms. Right now. Dean took a final step to close the distance between them and rested his hands on her hips, drawing her in close to him. "I want to take you out, buy you a nice dinner, and woo you."

Megan's face flushed. "You've already done so much…"

"I haven't done nearly enough." He leaned in, brushed his lips over hers and reveled in her sharp intake of breath. Encouraged, he went back for more. As he kissed her, his hands traveled down her back to her bottom. When her arms encircled his neck, Dean lifted her and groaned into her mouth as he legs curled around his hips. Worried about disturbing the baby, he walked them out the hallway where he pressed her against the wall and kissed her as if he'd been starving for her, which, of course, he had.

Her fingers fisted in his hair, keeping his mouth anchored to hers. Wiggling tight against him, she made his legs go weak and starts dance in his eyes.

Dean kissed her until he had no choice but to come up for air. He buried his face in her fragrant hair and breathed in the scent he would recognize anywhere as hers. "Now that we've gotten the good-night kiss out of the way, what do you say? Will you go out with me?"

She smiled. "Are you sure that Nikki won't mind?"

"I'm positive."

"Then yes, I'd like to go out with you."

"Have I told you lately," he said, skimming kisses over her neck and face, "how much I like being married to you?"

That earned him a genuine, lusty laugh he'd grown to adore, and it was all he could do not to say the words right then and there. _I love you. I love you so much I ache with it._

She caressed his face. "What are you thinking right now?"

Caught off guard, Dean had no idea what to say. "I can't tell you."

"Why not?"

He kissed her lightly, fighting for control of his desire and emotions. "Because it would scare you."

"Oh, come on, just tell me."

"I will make you a deal: If you still want to know what I was thinking after our date, I'll tell you."

"You'll tell me the truth?"

"Always," He kissed her gain before he reluctantly lowered her to her feet. "I have to go drop the wood and stuff at the marina and get my dad's truck back to him. Will you be okay for a little while?"

"I'm fine. You don't' need to hover over us like a mother hen anymore."

Kissing her nose and then her lips one last time, he said, "I love hovering over you. I'll be back to pick you up in an hour."

"And you'll call Nikki?"

"I already have."

"You're awfully sure of yourself, aren't you?"

"I was hopeful, that's all." Framing her face, he kissed her once more. "I'll be back soon."

Dean unloaded the lumber from the back of the truck into a pile in the parking lot. Sweating under the late-afternoon sun, he pulled of his t-shirt and reached for another sheet of plywood. He was just about finished when a willowy blonde approached him from the direction of the Tiki Bar, wineglass in hand. She sported a dark tan and wore a white tube top over hot pink shorts.

"You must be Dean," she purred in a voice that sounded like pure sex. "I've heard a lot about you."

Dean used his forearm to wipe the sweat from his forehead. "I'm afraid you have me at a disadvantage."

She released a sultry laugh. "Where are my manners? I'm Kelly Kelly."

He remembered the name from dinner the other night—the dinner he wanted to forget. "Ah, yes, you're a friend of my mother's. Good to meet you."

Her gaze traveled up and down his torso in obvious approval. "The pleasure is all mine."

God, she was so ridiculous! Had he ever seriously gone for this type? Well, yeah, but that was then and this was now. He thought of the sweet, unassuming woman who waited for him in town, and all he wanted was to get back to her as fast as he could.

"Your mother says you'll be here for a while," Kelly said.

"That's right."

"We should get together sometime."

"I'm going to be really busy." As he put his shirt back on, he swore he saw disappointment in her blue eyes. He gestured to the sagging roof on the main building. "I have a lot of work to get done."

Her lip rolled into that foolish pout women did so well, but it had no effect on him. "You can't work all the time."

"You're absolutely right." Glancing at his watch, he said, "In fact, I have somewhere I need to be. You have a good night, now."

As he got in the truck and drove away, Dean checked the rearview mirror to find her still standing where he'd left her, probably trying to figure out how she'd managed to let a live one slip away. He suspected that didn't' happen very often to good old Kelly Kelly.

At the top of the hill, Dean pulled into his parents' driveway, where his motorcycle waited for him. He parked the truck and went into the garage to grab a helmet. Blowing the dust off, he strapped it to the back of the bike and gave the house a quick look. He'd love to say hello to his father, but didn't want to run into his mother and have to answer fifty questions. As he weighed the pros and cons, she appeared at the door. Dean suppressed a groan.

"Hello, stranger."

"Hi, Mom. I was just dropping off the truck."

"I see that."

"Is Dad around?"

"He's in the shower." She opened the screen door and stepped onto the porch. "Would you like to come in and have a beer?"

"I have somewhere to be."

"Of course you do."

"Look, Mom—"

"I don't know what kind of power that woman has over the men in this town, but it's apparently quite formidable."

Fighting to control his temper, Dean looked up to the havens in search of patience. "You have no idea what you're talking about, and once again, I'll remind you to be very careful."

"Or what, Dean?"

"Or I'll take her and her son and go back to Las Vegas and out on the road with me tomorrow. I'm far too old to be justifying myself to my mother."

"Oh, Dean. You could do so much better!"

He released a bitter laugh. "Better? Like your good friend Kelly Kelly?"

"Well, for one."

"I just had the pleasure and she reminds me of a hundred other woman I've known. Nothing about her interests me."

"And you now that after what? Five minutes with her?"

"Actually, it only took thirty seconds."

Before Linda could reply to that, Vinnie Mac stepped onto the porch. "Hey, buddy. How was the mainland?"

Dean smiled, relieved to see his father. "It was a great day. I got everything I need to hit it hard on Monday."

"That sounds good to me. I appreciate that."

"I'm happy to help." Dean walked up the sidewalk to hand his father the keys to the truck.

"Your keys are still in the bike."

"Thank you, I'll see you guys tomorrow."

Vinnie Mac slid his arm around his wife. "You have a good night, son."

"You too."

Linda said nothing as Dean started the bike and drove off with a wave and a smile.

Still babying her injured hand, Megan got Kyle fed, bathed and into his pajamas before she put him in his crib with some toys while she took a quick shower. Not that she was hoping anything would happen or anything, but she saved her legs. Just in case. Oh, who was she kidding? She wanted something to happen!

When Dean had pretended to be her husband, and Kyle's father, he'd won over the last reluctant corner of her heart. She was sunk. How could she resist a guy who was not only capable of that kind of quick thinking but who also had a protective streak a mile wide? That didn't mean she wasn't' still worried about a lot of things. But tonight, she wasn't going to think about any of them. Tonight, she was going to enjoy the first real date she'd had in years with a wonderful, sexy man who seemed to be wild about her.

Glancing down at the evil-looking scab and bruises on her leg, Megan grimaced. Just what she needed on a night she was hoping for a little romance. She dried her hair until it fell thick and shiny on her shoulders. After smoothing fragrant lotion onto her entire body, she applied the barest bit of makeup and put on some of the new underwear she'd bought earlier. It was nice for once to wear a feminine bra, even if it didn't offer the same level of support. Tonight, she didn't care. She cut the tags off a new purple eyelet top cut lower than she normally wore and slid into a black miniskirt that came to mid-thigh. In the back of her closet, she found a pair of black high-heeled sandals.

She felt ready. She felt sexy. She felt nervous as hell. Placing a towel over her shoulder to protect her shirt, she lifted Kyle out of his crib and took him into the living room for a snuggle. If anything could calm her nerves, he could.

"We saw your father today, buddy."

His face scrunched into his adorably serious expression. Sometimes Megan thought he could understand her every word. She couldn't wait to have a real conversation with him.

"I know you might think it's wrong that I didn't tell him about you, but he kept some important information from me, too. I don't think he's the kind of man we want in your life if he lies so easily, you know?""

Kyle reached for her hair and gave it a gentle tug. "Does Mommy look pretty? I want to look pretty tonight. Let me ask you something—what do you think of Dean? Tell me the truth."

The baby let loose a gurgle and flashed a gummy smile full of new teeth.

"Figures, you guys all stick together." Megan raised the baby so he could balance on his chubby legs. "He is pretty awesome, though, don't you think? He likes you a lot, too."

Kyle bounced up and down on his rubbery legs as a blob of drool ran down his chin.

Megan blotted his face. "His sister Nikki is coming over to play with you for a little while before bed. Will you be good for her so Mommy can have some fun tonight?"

More gurgling.

"Thanks pal. I appreciate it."

When she heard Dean's motorcycle in the driveway, her heart skipped into overdrive. "Here he comes," she whispered.

Kyle let out an excited squeal, and Megan was sure he recognized the sound of the bike by now. Her son was getting attached to their new friend, which pleased and scared her at the same time.

Dean came bounding up the stairs as if he couldn't wait to get to them. "Hey," he said as he came in the door. "Y'all ready for bed, big guy?" He leaned in to kiss the bouncing baby's wet cheek and then glanced at Megan. His eyes widened. "Wow, you look gorgeous."

"Thank you," she said, her face heating up.

He seemed to have trouble taking his eyes off her. "I just need to grab a quick shower. Nikki will be here soon."

"I'm ready when you are." It was all so domestic, Megan thought, as she watched him disappear into the bathroom. Her at home with the baby until Daddy gets home from work. A nice fantasy, that was for sure, and one she'd never pictured for herself until a sexy, thoughtful, decent guy knocked her off her bike. She wondered if that 'accident' would turn out to be the best thing to ever happen to her.

"What do you think?" she asked Kyle.

"Does he talk back to you?" Nikki asked from outside the screen door.

Megan laughed and waved her in. "Not yet, but soon, I hope."

"Hey, little man," Nikki said, reaching for the baby.

Kyle went to her but kept a wary eye on his mother.

"Look what I found on the way over." Nikki produced a soft lamb and held him up for Kyle to see.

He studied the toy in his usual serious way.

Then Nikki took hold of a loop attached to the lamb and the baby smiled at the "Mary Had a Little Lamb" tune.

"That's adorable, Nikki," Megan said. "Where did you get it?"

"My friend owns Carmella's Cabinet."

"Oh, I love that store!"

Dean emerged from the bathroom wearing a towel around his waist. "I forgot my clothes," he said with a sheepish grin. "Hey, Nikki."

His sister shielded her eyes. "Eww put something on, will you?" To Megan, she said, "See what I grew up with? IT was like living in a freaking locker room."

Megan's gaze roamed over Dean's muscular physique. "Mmm," she said, licking her lips. "Must've been a terrible hardship."

Gripping a handful of clean clothes, Dean flashed her that irrepressible grin and went back into the bathroom to get dressed.

"Damn," Nikki said, laughing. "You two have a bad case of it, huh?"

"So it seems." Megan sighed. "I'm probably cruising for disaster, but I can't seem to help myself."

"He's the best, Megan, and I'm not just saying that because he's my big brother."

"So you wouldn't mind if we, you know—"

"I might've, before I got to know you, but now it seems you're just what he needs."

Touched, Megan looked at Dean's sister with new appreciation. "Too bad your mother doesn't think so."

"Don't let her get to you. We just ignore her when she gets unreasonable."

Megan smiled. For the second time that week, she felt like she might be making a new girlfriend, and both of them were thanks to Dean.

"Are you ladies talking about me?" Dean asked when he emerged from the bathroom wearing a navy-blue polo shirt and khaki cargo shorts.

"Get over yourself," his sister said. "We have much better things to talk about than you."

Dean stuck his tongue out at her and reached for the baby. "I need a minute with my little buddy before we go." He swung him around in circles that had the baby squealing with delight.

"Don't get him all fired up for Nikki," Megan said. "While they're playing, let me show you where everything is."

"Sounds good."

As they were leaving a few minutes later, Kyle began to cry.

Dean put his arm around Megan on the way down the stairs. "He'll be fine."

"What if he isn't? What if he gives her a hard time all night?"

"We'll call and check in a little while. If it's not going well, we'll go home."

Megan looked up at him. "You wouldn't mind?"

"Of course not." He kissed her softly. "Whatever it takes to make sure you have a good time." He reached for the denim jacket he'd told her to bring, and draped it around her shoulders. "You'll need that." Taking her hand, he led her to the bike and reached for the helmet.

"We're going on that?"

"Is that okay?"

Megan eyed it with trepidation, thinking of her healing wounds.

"You'll be perfectly safe. I promise."

"I'm wearing a skirt."

"It's dark, so no one will see a thing—except maybe me, and that's more than fine with me."

Smiling at his irreverence, she said, "I've never been on a motorcycle."

"Then you're in for a treat." He helped her into the helmet. "You'll love it."

"I'm glad I bothered to do my hair," she said dryly.

"It'll bounce right back." Tipping his head, he pressed a kiss to her neck. "You look amazing, and you smell even better." He adjusted the strap under her chin and helped her onto the bike. Sliding on in front of her, he said, "Hold on as tight as you can."

Megan laughed and wrapped her arms around him. "I can see right through you, Ambrose."

"Tighter," he said with a chuckle.

As she flattened her hands against his taut abs, she discovered he didn't have an extra ounce on him. With her legs snug against his hips and her hands flat against his belly, Megan wanted to purr with contentment.

He started the bike and headed down the driveway. Going by Paige's deck, Megan noticed the glow of a cigarette, which lit her sister's face and illuminated her disapproval. Megan turned away, refusing to let anyone ruin this night for her.


	11. Chapter 11

****A/N****

 **Hey guys! Welcome back to 'Maid for Love'. This is a little bit of a shorter chapter than normal, but I'm struggling today with lack of sleep. I stayed up way too late to watch the Super Bowl and went to bed disappointed that the Los Angeles Rams lost. Any who, on to the chapter! Hope you guys enjoy.**

They took the long way around the south side of the island on their way to Dominic's, an Italian restaurant located off the main drag. Megan loved being on the motorcycle and was impressed by the skillful way Dean operated it. They leaned into turns as if they'd been riding together for years, and when they finally parked, Megan took off the helmet and shook out her hair.

"Well?" he asked. "What'd you think?"

"I love it."

"I did, too."

She looked at him, perplexed. "You do it all the time."

"Yes, but never with you pressed against me. That was the best ride ever."

She couldn't believe the things he said to her! Before they went any further, he called Nikki and confirmed that Kyle was doing just fine.

"That is a relief," Megan said. "Thank you for checking."

"No problem, honey. This used to be one of my favorite restaurants. Is it okay with you?"

"I've heard it's expensive."

"I don't care about that."

"You're not even working right now. How can you not care?"

"Honey, I'm a wrestler. I get paid whether I work or not, especially with my merchandise sales."

"That must be nice."

"It doesn't suck."

Megan laughed, and he put his arm around her shoulders to lead her inside. "Does my hair look okay?"

"You look gorgeous. Every guy in there will be envious of me."

Could he be any more outrageous? "Right."

Inside, they were led to a table in the middle of the big busy dining room. Dean held her hair for her and then sat to her left rather than across the table. It pleased her that he wanted to sit so close to her, but Megan felt the eyes of everyone in the room focused on her as heat crept up her neck to settle in her face.

"What's wrong?" Dean asked.

"Everyone is looking at us."

"They're wondering how I managed to get such a beautiful woman to have dinner with me."

Megan shot him a withering look. "Sure they are." She took a drink from her glass of ice water. "Do you want to know what they are really thinking?"

He reached for her hand and linked his fingers with hers, sending a clear message to anyone who was watching. "I couldn't care less."

And just like that, he diffused her anxiety. Why did she care? "It must be nice to go through life not giving a shit to what anyone thinks of you."

"I've had it a bit easier on that front than you have."

When the waiter returned to the table, Dean perused the wine list and ordered a bottle or red. "Is there something else you'd rather have?" he asked Megan.'

"No, red wine is fine. Thank you."

"Very good," the waiter said. "I'll be right back to take your order."

Megan scanned the menu and didn't see a single entrée for less than thirty dollars.

"What looks good to you, honey?" Dean asked.

"I'm not really that hungry. I'll probably just go with soup."

"Oh, come on. You can do better than that."

"Really, that's all I want."

He put down his menu and leaned in close to her. "What's the matter, Megan?"

Her face once again heated with embarrassment. That had happened more since she'd known him than in her whole life before him. "The prices are ridiculous," she whispered.

"Megan, honey, please. Have whatever you want."

"I could live for two weeks on what this one meal will cost."

"Would you rather go somewhere else?" He brought her hand to his lips. "I want you to have a good time tonight. I don't care where we go."

"I'm sorry. You're trying to do something nice, and I'm ruining it."

"You're being practical, and I'm being frivolous."

"I can't help it. I haven't had much of a chance to be frivolous."

"Would you mind letting me spoil you a bit? Just for tonight? Pick something fabulous that makes your mouth water just reading about—and don't look at the cost."

"I don't know if I can do that."

"Then I'll do it for you." He flipped open the menu. "You've told me you love shrimp. How about the scampi?"

She wrinkled her nose. "Too garlicky."

"What if I have it, too? Then we'll both stink when we make out later."

Megan laughed even as his words filled her with edgy anticipation. "What are my other options?"

"Seafood Fra Diavolo."

"What's in that?"

Dean read the description of the spicy pasta dish that included clams, mussels, scallops and shrimp.

"That does sound good. Is it under fifty dollars?"

When he raised a dark eyebrow, he went from sexy straight to rakish. "We're not looking at that, remember?"

He had a way of making everything fun, even her freak-outs about money. "I don't know how you do it," she said with a sigh.

"How I do what?"

"How you can talk me down off the ledge without breaking a sweat."

"I just want you to be happy. I don't care what I have to do to make that happen."

"You really don't, do you?"

Without taking his eyes off hers, he shook his head. "Whatever you want. Whenever you want it."

"I still can't believe you feel that way about me. I'm finding it hard to get used to."

"Well, you need to get used to it. It's here to stay."

"How can you possibly know that after just a few days?"

"I told you; I knew after a few minutes."

Their waiter returned with the wine Dean had ordered and went through the ritual of uncorking it and giving him a sample. Megan watched him as he tasted it, nodded his approval to the waiter and ordered dinner for both of them. Clearly, he'd done this a few times.

"The food here is unreal," Dean said when their calamari appetizer was delivered.

"It should be for what it costs," she muttered.

Dean laughed and fed her a ring of fried squid. "So, I was thinking…"

Megan eyed him warily. "Thinking about what?"

"Kyle's father."

"What about him"

"You said Kyle's father was a baseball player. You didn't say that he was Kyle Schwarber, the outfielder for the Chicago Cubs."

"Did I forget to mention that?"

"You know you did. But what I don't get is why you'd let him get away with what he did when he could make life so much easier for you and Kyle."

"It's because I'd never want to risk him trying to take Kyle away from me. What if he decided he couldn't live without his son? How would I fight back when he has the kind of resources he does?"

"I don't know much about being a baseball player, but I can't imagine he'd want people to know that he lied to you, and then left you alone and pregnant with a text message to say good-bye. If I heard that, I wouldn't be a fan of his anymore that is for sure."

Did he have any idea how adorable he was when he got so indignant on her behalf?

"What?" he huffed. "What's so funny?"

"You are."

"I'm serious, Megan! It's ridiculous that you're worried about money when he could be supporting his son in high style."

"We don't need high style. We're managing just fine."

"It's just not right."

"Maybe not, but I'd never risk losing Kyle. Besides, now he thinks I'm a happily married mother. I won't hear from him again."

Dean toyed with the stem on his wineglass. "How did it feel?" His eyes met hers. "To see him again?"

"All I could think about on the ferry was that he'd take one look at Kyle and know he was his son." This time she reached for his hand and enjoyed the surprised expression that lit up his face. "But because of what you did, I'll never have to worry about that again."

"You think he bought it?"

She squeezed his hand. "I know he did. You may not realize this, but you saved me from one of my biggest worries today. I used to be afraid all the time that he'd show up at my door someday and the jig would be up. But because I met you, because you knocked me off my bike and insisted on inserting yourself into my life—"

"Hey! You like having me around!"

Megan bit back a laugh. "because of all that, and because you were so quick today, you made it so I don't have to worry about that anymore, and I appreciate it more than you could ever know. If I hadn't been with you, he would've shown up at my door, and who knows what might've happened?"

"I don't want you to have to worry about anything or be afraid." He glanced down at their joined hands and then back up at her. "So, you didn't feel, you know, attracted to him?"

Smiling at his concern, she said, "Not one bit. I seem to be rather attracted to someone else at the moment." She loved the befuddled look that crossed his face.

"What's his name?" he asked, attempting a stern tone that failed miserably.

"You don't know him."

"Oh, man!" He clutched his chest, pretending she'd stabbed him. "She giveth and she taketh away!"

Watching him—playful, sexy, generous, solid—Megan realized that despite all her best efforts to resist him, she'd fallen as hard for him as he seemed to have fallen for her. Now he had to decide if she was willing to risk everything to see where he could take her.

Dean and Megan held hands as they left the restaurant. Sated after the meal, the wine, and the conversation, he wanted to rush her home so they could be together. It was too soon. HE knew that, yet he also now knew that she wanted as much as he wanted her.

Unlike any woman he'd ever known, she made him breathless and anxious and edgy and nervous. He couldn't wait to get back on the bike, to have her wrapped around him, to have her legs tight against his hips and her breasts flat against his back. Good thing she hadn't seen what having her close to him like that had done to him earlier. She'd never trust him to keep the bike on the road.

"Look at the stars," she marveled.

"That's one thing I miss in Vegas. There is too much city light."

She continued to gaze upward at a sky littered with stars. "Sometimes I really love it here."

Because he couldn't bear to wait another second, he caressed her face and pressed a chaste kiss to her sweet lips. Her arms came up to encircle his neck, and her tongue traced the outline of his mouth. Dean stopped breathing as she teased her way into his mouth. He groaned from the effort of holding back the need to plunder.

"You're killing me," he whispered.

"Good."

"I won't be any good to you dead."

She laughed against his lips and killed him some more with dainty sweep of her tongue that sent electrical currents rippling straight through him.

He slid a hand down her back, cupped her bottom and brought her in tight against his throbbing erection. She gasped. "Dean."

"What, honey? Tell me."

"I want you."

"It's too soon." He wanted to shoot himself for being so honorable. At times like this, that really sucked. "You need time—"

She put her fingers over his lips. "I need you."

"Are you sure?"

Nodding, she rubbed herself against him, and he nearly lost it. "Megan," he gasped.

She tossed her head back and laughed. He took advantage of the opportunity to sink his teeth into her exposed neck.

She shuddered. "Can we go home now?"

"I was going to take you dancing."

"I don't want to dance."

"What do you want to do?"

"You."

His heart tripped into overdrive. "Megan..."

She took a step back from him. "God that sounded so slutty. I don't know what I was thinking—"

He brought her right back. "No, honey. It sounded so sexy that I'm about to lose my mind. I want you to say whatever you want to me. I'll never think you're anything but beautiful and funny and smart and so freaking sexy you make me crazier than I've been since I was a horny teenager."

She looked up at him with bottomless eyes full of what looked an awful lot like love. God, he hoped so. "Take me home, Dean. Please?"

With shaking hands, he helped her into the helmet and got her settled on the back of the bike. Before he got on, he walked around it a couple of times.

"What are you doing?"

"Trying to cool off so I can drive."

Megan giggled and never took her eyes off him as he took another lap around the bike. Finally, he got on in front of her. "All better?"

"Not hardly, but good enough to get us home. I hope."

Megan slid her arms around him, caressing his chest and belly before heading south. He caught her wandering hands with one of his. "No more of that until we get home," he said through gritted teeth.

"You're no fun."

"I'll show you fun. Just let me get us home without crashing."

Whereas before dinner, she'd taken the long way so she'd get a chance to enjoy the bike ride, on the way home, he took the shortest possible route. Having her pressed against him, even more tightly than before, was pure torture. When they arrived at her place, he was relieved to see the lights off in Paige's house and only one lamp glowing in Megan's apartment. How quickly, he wondered, could he get rid of his sister without being rude?

"Don't be obvious," Megan whispered on the way up the stairs.

He stopped and drew her into another torrid kiss. "That's just to tide me over," he said when he came up for air many minutes later.

Megan wiped a self-conscious hand over her kiss-swollen lips and preceded him into the apartment.

"Hey," Nikki said from the sofa. "You're back early."

"Megan wasn't feeling well," Dean said. "Her injuries are acting up again."

"Oh, give it a rest, Dean." Nikki rolled her eyes. "You want to fool around, and you want me out of here. Don't worry, I'm going."

"That's not true—"Megan said at the same time Dean began to protest.

"You two are so funny," Nikki said, laughing.

"Let me walk you home," Dean said.

"Not necessary. I walk around town by myself all the time."

"I don't want you doing it tonight."

"Tough," she gathered up her purse and the book she'd brought. Going up on tiptoes, she planted a kiss on Dean's cheek. "You're not the boss of me, big brother." She patted his face. "Take care of your lady. I'll take care of myself."

"Call me when you get home. Let it ring once."

Nikki laughed at him. "All right, Mom, if you insist."

"I do."

"Thank you so much, Nikki." Megan said. "I really appreciate you watching Kyle."

"Anytime—and I mean that. He's adorable. I loved hanging out with him."

"Thanks, brat," Dean said as he held the door for her. He watched her go down the stairs to the driveway before he swung the inside door closed and turned to Megan.

"You're crazy, you know that?" she said.

"I'm crazy about you, and I got rid of her in three minutes. That has to be a record where Nikki is concerned."

"So much for not being obvious." Megan got up from the sofa. "I'll be right back." On the way by, she made sure to rub up against him.

He was never going to survive her.

After she disappeared into the bathroom, he got busy pulling out the sofa bed. "We're getting a bigger place and a real bed," he muttered. "Immediately." Going to his pile on the floor, he dug out the gift he'd bought her at the mall and left it on the bed. When she came out a few minutes later, he took his turn in the bathroom, giving her the change to discover the bag on the bed.


	12. Chapter 12

****A/N****

 **Hey guys, I didn't get the full chapter uploaded, but here is the whole chapter! Also, I did upload a chapter from a different story. Ugh! I'll get it together eventually! I'm so sorry about that and all the confusion! Good grieffff! Thank you 'Guest' for letting me know that it was the wrong chapter that I uploaded. So please enjoy the correct chapter.**

 **Good grief! lol**

Nikki took her time walking home. The mild evening had brought out the crowds, and Main Street was busy and loud. It was still early, so she decided to stop at the Beachcomber for a beer before going home. No doubt she'd find someone she knew at her favorite bar. Unlike her brothers, she'd never been confined by island life and couldn't imagine living anywhere else. But she missed John so much that she wondered how she'd ever survive another year apart.

They were so close to having everything they'd ever dreamed of. All their plans were in place for a wedding next summer, after which he'd move home to Gansett to take over the practice of the retiring Doc Shelby. Nikki had graduated from the University of Connecticut with a degree in animal science. She'd had the grades for veterinary school, but John had convinced her that only one of them should go to medical school or they'd be re-paying student loans for the rest of their lives. She knew he was right. Island practices wouldn't generate the kind of income they'd need to live and pay off massive loans, too. Sometimes, however, she wished they both could've pursued their dreams.

Nikki's parents had offered to pay for her to go to veterinary school, but she and John had decided they didn't' want to be that deeply indebted to them. Her parents had vehemently disagreed with that decision and hadn't hesitated to tell her so. But it was her life—and John's—and they were going to do things their way. Her parents had been a little chilly to John since then, and Nikki hoped they'd get over it before the wedding.

She and John had been a team for so long—since their sophomore year of high school—that Nikki couldn't imagine her life without him. She just wished they saw more of each other. Once a month or so, she spends a weekend with him in Boston, and he came to the island whenever he could get at least forty-eight hours free. Unfortunately, that hadn't happened very often during his residency. He was either working or sleeping. Often when they were together, he slept through much of it. That was the main reason why they'd decided she could stay on the island with her family and friends rather than move to Boston to live with him. He worked so much that she'd spend more time alone there than she did on Gansett.

This time next year, all the sacrifice would pay off. Somehow, she just had to get by until then. Seeing Dean and Megan, so suddenly and stupidly in love, had made Nikki wistful and lonely. Taking the steps to the Beachcomber two at a time, she was glad she'd decided to stay out for a while. Before she walked into the bar, she called Dean's phone and let it ring once as requested, so he wouldn't come hunt her down.

At the far side of the bar, Seth Rollins nursed a beer and flirted with the bartender. Thrilled to see him, Nikki snuck up behind him and covered his eyes with her hands.

"Who goes there?" he asked.

"You have to guess."

"Hmmm, smells like Dean Ambrose's bratty little sister to me."

"I've never been able to fool you!" Nikki planted a kiss on Seth's cheek and smiled when he flushed with embarrassment. He was such a mush and one of her all-time favorite people. "What does Dean Ambrose's little sister smell like anyway?"

"She smells like sunshine and wildflowers," he said, startling her.

Nikki swallowed hard. "Is that so?"

Realizing she no longer had Seth's attention, the bartender stalked off to wait on other customers without taking Nikki's order.

"Yep," Seth said. "What're you doing out running the streets so late? Isn't it past your curfew?"

Nikki rolled her eyes at him. "I just babysat for Dean's girlfriend, Megan, so they could go out."

"That seems to be getting serious. I've seen him out with the baby every morning this week."

"He's crazy about them both."

Seth chuckled. "Hard to believe."

"No kidding, but he seems really happy. I love seeing him al befuddled by a woman. It's high time." Taking a handful of pretzels from the bowl on the bar, she popped one into her mouth. "What're you doing here? This isn't one of your usual island nights."

He quirked an eyebrow at her. "Got my schedule memorized?"

She took a drink from his bottle of beer. "It's not exactly rocket science: Friday and Saturday nights from Memorial Day to Columbus Day. Today is Thursday, so it's a reasonable question."

"IF you must know, busybody, the wife of one of my guys is in labor, so I'm taking the first run in the morning."

"Ah, I see." Nikki noticed him fixating on her engagement ring. Casually, she shifted on the barstool and dropped her left hand to her lap. He'd never said or done anything inappropriate. He'd never treated her as anything other than his best friend's little sister. But there was something—something Nikki couldn't allow herself to examine too closely. Truth be told, she was afraid of what she might find just below the surface of her easy friendship with the handsome ferryboat captain.

He signaled the bartender and ordered a beer for her, pushing forward a ten from his stack of money on the bar.

Nikki raised her bottle in a toast to Seth. "Thanks."

"My pleasure."

"It's good to see you."

"Nikki, it's always good to see you."

Megan emerged from the bathroom and immediately spotted the bag that Dean had left on the bed. After he closed the bathroom door, she approached the pink-striped bag as if it was full of explosives. Inside, she found the gorgeous purple nightgown she'd admired in the Victoria's Secret window. Megan blinked back tears as silk slipped through her fingers. He must've seen her looking at it and bought it after she moved on.

Glancing at the closed bathroom door, she realized she had just a few minutes to change. She took the bag into the bedroom where Kyle slept and quickly stripped off her clothes and slipped into the nightgown. With only the light from the hallway, she could see that her breasts filled out the top to overflowing, and nothing she did lessened the effect of too much breast and not enough nightgown. Fighting back tears of frustration, she told herself that he'd wanted to do something nice for her, to make their first time together extra special. If she made a fuss about the top being too small, she would ruin it.

Dean came up behind her, kissed her shoulder and slid his arms around her. Megan was startled because she had been so consumed with worry, that she didn't hear the bathroom door open.

"Stop worrying about how they look," he whispered, his breath warm against her sensitized skin. He had removed his shirt but still wore his shorts. "Every inch of you is perfect to me."

"Thank you," she managed to say, amazed once again by how well he read her in such a short amount of time together. "for the nightgown. I've never had anything so beautiful."

"Neither have I."

Megan closed her eyes and relaxed into his embrace.

"Are you going to let me see how it looks? I've had all these fantasies…"

Gripping his hand, she led him out of the bedroom and into the softly lit living room. Before she could chicken out, she turned, raised her chin and met his eyes. In them, she saw heat and desire and love. So much love. Because of that, she didn't flinch when his eyes took a slow journey from her face to her chest and below before returning to her face.

"The fantasies have nothing on the reality," he said after a long moment during which neither of them took a breath. He brough her in close to him and ran his hands up and down her silk-covered back. "I've never wanted anyone or anything the way I want you, Megan." His big hands spanned her waist, heating her skin through the silk.

"I don't want to disappoint you. I haven't done this very oftern."

"Baby, you couldn't possibly disappoint me." He dropped soft, openmouthed kisses on her collarbone, shoulder and neck. "Remember earlier, when you asked what I was thinking, and I said I'd tell you after our date?"

Caught up in a flood of sensation, Megan couldn't seem to form words. "Mmm."

"I want to tell you now." He raised his face from her neck and looked her in the eye. Megan reached up to comb her fingers through his thick dark hair. A tremble ripped through him.

"What do you want to tell me, Dean?"

"When you asked what I was thinking…My exact thought at the second you asked was that I love you so much ache with it."

Tears sprang to her eyes. She was a regular waterworks tonight. "Dean…"

"I've never said that to anyone before. I had no idea what it meant to be in love until I knocked you off your bike and you knocked me off my feet."

As a fat tear rolled down her cheek, she drew him into a deep, sensual kiss. "Dean, I—"

He stopped her with a kiss. "Don't say anything; not now. Let me show you."

At that moment, Megan would've followed him anywhere he chose to take her. She belonged to him mind, body and soul.

Urging her down to the bed, he dropped his shorts and joined her. They faced each other, touching, kissing, laughing softly when nose bumped nose.

"I wish I wasn't all bruised and scabby for this."

"I love those scabs. Without them, we wouldn't have found each other."

Megan laughed, drowning in the heady scent of his cologne. "That's crazy logic."

"I'm so glad I stepped off that curb and collided with you. I still hate that you got hurt so badly, but when I think about how you could've ridden right by me…that I might've never known you or Kyle…that we could've come so close to each other but never had this…" His caressing hand found her belly.

Megan arched into him, wanting him so desperately but not wanting to seem too eager. In the back of her mind, always, were the whispers, the innuendos, and the rumors. She tentatively caressed his chest, running her palm over his protruding nipple before coating down to his taut belly.

Dean gasped and shifted so he was on top of her. He buried one hand in her hair and devoured her mouth with deep, sweeping strokes of his tongue that left her weak and trembling. Kissing his way down the front of her, he visited her ear and neck before moving to her chest. Megan tensed. Here is comes, the part where he'll want to touch me there.

With his hands braced on her ribs and using only his tongue, he teased her nipples until the silk was damp and clinging to her fevered skin. He drew her left nipple into his warm mouth, but still he didn't touch her with anything other than his mouth. Just when Megan was certain he would fill his hands with her breats, he moved down, kissing her stomach, her hip bones and then her center.

"Dean…please…" She arched her hips, hoping to leave no doubt that she wanted him. Right now.

"I need you to say the words, remember?"

How could she forget? "Make love to me, Dean. Please make love to me.

He moved to her ankles and ran his hands over her legs, raising the nightgown as he went. Any minute now she'd be naked and laid out before him. He'd see what she wanted no one to see. But he only raised the gown to her hips and settled between her legs. When she realized what he intended to do, she tried to sit up, but his arm across her middle held her in place.

"Wait, Dean. Don't."

"Shh," he said, his breath fanning the hair that covered her. "It's okay. Let me love you." His broad shoulders forced her legs farther apart. "Relax, honey. I promise you'll like it."

Megan wasn't so sure but made an effort to relax the muscles in her thighs. However, when his fingers slid through the dampness between her legs, she tensed again.

"It's okay," he said. "I love you and I want to love you."

When his tongue found the center of her desire at the same moment his fingers slid into her, Megan's heart surged, her skin heated and tingled, and even as she tried to remain still, her lips lifted in response to his deep caresses.

"That's it baby, just let go. I want all of you and I want to kiss you everywhere."

A sob erupted from Megan's throat as she buried a hand in his hair and lifted her hips in time with his questing tongue and fingers. When he rolled her pulsing flesh between his lips and sucked hard on her, she went totally still and came with a cry of completion and desperate desire. He stayed with her through every wave and then started all over again, driving her up and then leaving her hanging. She moaned and reached for him.

"Wait a second, honey." He sat on the side of the bed to roll on a condom. When he was ready, he lowered himself over her and devastated her with slow, deep kisses as if he had all the patience in the world. The erection pulsing against her leg told a different story. Megan let her hands roam over his back and down to his tight backside.

He jerked, his face tnese as he fought for control

"Now, Dean. Right now, please."

"It's been awhile for you, honey. I don't want to hurt you."

Even though he was longer and fuller than Kyle's father, Megan knew it wouldn't hurt the way it had before. "You won't." Guiding him with her hand, she stroked him gently.

He released a hiss and bit down on his lip. "If you do that, this'll be over before it starts."

Megan raised her hips to guide him. Now he would probably want the nightgown off, but when she started to remove it, he stopped her. "Leave it," he said through gritted teeth as he entered her with a powerful thrust that took her breath away.

"Oh," she said. "Oh, God."

He froze. "Does it hurt?"

"No, no. don't stop. Just don't stop."

Dean chuckled at her enthusiastic response and gave her what she wanted. Her legs hugged his hips as her hands gripped his backside. With his fingers between them, he once again found the core of her desire and stroked her to another shattering climax. This time, he went with her, surging into her over and over again before his arms seemed to collapse. Breathing hard, he rested on top of her without crushing her, even as he continued to throb inside her.

Megan combed her fingers through his hair, soothing him with soft kisses to his damp forehead.

"That was amazing," he finally said.

"It was beyond amazing." With the nightgown bunched between them, Megan finally understood what he had done—he'd taken her breasts out of the equation, allowing her to focus only on the pleasure, only on him. Never in her wildest dreams or fantasies had she ever expected to find a man who not only loved her, but who understood her the way he did.

"I love you, too, Dean," she whispered. "So much I ache with it."

He released a long, deep breath that sounded a lot like relief. "You've made me so happy."

Somehow, he'd managed to conquer her every fear, every worry, every doubt. In six days' time, he'd done what no one else before him had. He' d loved her, protected her, fought for her and cared for her. She tightened her arms around him, intending to never let him go.

"We might have one small problem."

"Oh? What would that be?"

"I only have four condoms. Well, three now."

"Why didn't you get more today?"

"You wouldn't have found that a tad presumptuous?"

She couldn't deny he had her there. "What'll we do? Neither of us can buy them in this town. It'll be all over the island before we're even out of the store."

"Don't worry about that, honey. I will think of something."

"You do that." She tugged on his hair to bring him close enough to kiss. "And get the big box while you're at it. The biggest box they have. Maybe even get two of them."

Dean laughed as he finally withdrew from her. "You got it."

"And you'll take care of this tomorrow, right?"

"I will, first thing," he said, still chuckling.

"Good, because we'll need some for tomorrow night."

"I knew it," he said with a deep, dramatic sigh. "You're really going to kill me, aren't you?"

She could tell she astounded him when she pushed him onto his back. Her lips hovering above his, she said, "Or die trying."


	13. Chapter 13

****A/N****

 **Once again guys, I am so very sorry about the huge mix up with the last chapter. First, the whole chapter didn't get uploaded, and I didn't realize until I got home from work. Then, I accidently uploaded a chapter from one of my other stories, "The New Girl", in its place. I need more coffee! LOL I apologize, but thank you to the 'Guest' reviewer for letting me know! If you get this chapter, please go back to chapter 12, again, because it's fixed this time, I promise! I appreciate each and every one of the reviews you all have left on this story. I love them and they keep me going. Much love! –Glamahart32**

Dean held her tight against him as she slept. After what they'd shared, he should have been exhausted, depleted, and completely drained. Instead, he was exhilarated and making plans that he couldn't wait to share with her.

They would be married as soon as possible. He'd adopt Kyle and give him his name. Kyle Ambrose had a nice ring to it. Next, he would build them a house—a great big house with a huge bedroom, a brand-new bed and a view of the water. He'd take over his father's business and make a life right here on the island with his new family. They'd even find a way to send Megan to college. Maybe if she spent two days a week on the mainland, she could chip away at a degree over the next few years. He wanted her to have everything she'd missed out on before now. After waiting forever for her, he'd do anything he could to ensure her unending happiness.

She stirred, murmured in her sleep and pressed her lips to his chest. Dean smoothed a hand over her hair.

"What are you doing awake?" she muttered.

"I'm just thinking about you."

"What about me?"

"Just about the life we're going to have together."

"Oh? Tell me about it." She caressed his chest, focusing on his nipple, which reawakened another part of him. "I want to know all about it."

He went through the whole plan, from marriage to college. Megan propped herself up so her chin rested on his chest. She stayed like that for a long time, studying him with those caramel eyes that made him melt.

"What? Do you no like the plan?"

"No, I love the plan."

"Then what's wrong?"

"I just keep waiting for the other shoe to drop. No one can be this perfect."

"Maybe I'm just perfect for you. Did that ever occur to you?"

"Oh, it has, many times." She shifted so she was on top of him and began to pepper his chest with soft kisses that made his blood boil. No one had ever fired him up the way she did. Her tongue circled his nipple, and he sucked in a sharp, deep breath. "Babe, don't forget. We're out of condoms."

"I know." She moved to give his other nipple the same attention.

By now, Dean was hard as stone and pulsating against her belly. Megan shocked him when she sat up, reached for the hem of the silk nightgown and lifted it over her head, exposing her breasts to him for the first time. Nothing she could've done would have told him more about how much she'd come to love and trust him.

"You're so beautiful," he said, his voice hoarse. "Like a fantasy come to life."

"Touch me, Dean."

His hands coasted over her ribs to cup her breasts. "I know you hate them, but I think they're magnificent."

Megan laughed. "I thought you were an ass-and –leg man."

"All men are breast men."

She rolled her eyes. "Tell me something I don't know."

Dean drew a nipple deep into his mouth and swirled his tongue back and forth.

"Mmm, that feels so good."

He held back the overwhelming urge to squeeze and lick and bite, not wanting her to think he was fixated on the part of her she hated the most. That was fine, because she seemed to have other plans anyway.

Wiggling out of his grip, she dragged her breasts over his chest and kissed her way to his belly. Under the sheet, her soft hand found him hard and ready, as if he hadn't already had her four times. "Megan," he gasped.

"Hmm?" This she said against the head of his penis, the vibration nearly undoing him.

"God," he uttered.

Her soft laughter was accompanied by sweeping stroked of her tongue.

"Honey, wait…"

"Relax, Dean. I want to kiss you everywhere."

"You can't use my own words against me."

She glanced up at him, a wicked glint in her eyes. "Oh no? Watch me."

He loved her like this—confident and trusting, loving him enough to expose herself to him, to take him into her mouth and give him something special. She probably hadn't done this before, but her enthusiasm more than made up for her lack of experience. It didn't take long for her to drive him to the point of no return. With his hand buried in her hair, he tried to stop her.

"Megan," he panted, "stop. Baby, come on." But rather than stop, she stroked him faster and took him deeper. By the time she drew a long, intense orgasm from him, he was sweating, breathing hard and his heart raced. Just opening his eyes took all the energy that remained in his body. When he did, he found her watching him with a very satisfied look on her face.

"Welcome back. I thought I'd finally killed you."

"You were pretty damn close," he said, reaching for her.

She snuggled into his embrace. "Was it okay?" she asked in a small voice that tugged at him.

"So much better than okay; there isn't even a word for it."

"I've never done that before. I always wondered what it would be like."

"And…?"

"I really, really liked it."

"Maybe I have died and gone to heaven after all."

She giggled, but then she got very quiet. "Thank you, Dean."

"What are you thanking me for? After that, I should be thanking you."

She tilted her head so she could see him. "For not going all nuts over the girls the way most guys would have."

"I wish you didn't dislike them so much. " He flashed a salacious grin. "I think I could come to be very good friends with them."

Smiling, she caressed the stubble on his jaw. "I don't dislike them. I hate them."

"I don't want you to take this the wrong way, because I mean it when I tell you that you are perfect in every way to me."

"But…?"

"If you want to have them reduced, I'd happily pay for it, but only because it would make you happy."

"I couldn't let you do that. You've already done so much for me."

"You don't have to decide right now. The offer is on the table, now or later, when you and Kyle are on my insurance. Whenever. I wouldn't change a single thing about you, but it's not about what I want."

"I really, really love you," she whispered.

"And I really, really love you. There's nothing I wouldn't do for you—or Kyle."

As if he had heard his name, the baby chose that moment to let them know that he was awake. Dean kissed her one last time and pulled the covers up over her, hating to end what had been the best night of his life. "My time with him."

"If you bring him to me and I nurse him, he might go back to sleep for a while—and then we could, too."

"As much as I love my mornings out with him, that sounds too good to pass up."

He retreieved Kyle from his crib, changed the twenty-pound morign diaper, pleanted some noisy raspberries on his belly that made him laugh like crazy and then carried him to his mother. For the first time, he got to watch as Megan guided the baby to her breast.

"God, that's amazing," he said, awestruck by the way the baby's little mouth latched on and went to work. He'd never seen anything quite like it.

Megan stroked the baby's downy soft hair and smiled at Dean. She look like a warrior queen, proud and strong and he loved her so fiercely. He slipped back into bed and shifted her so he could hold them both. "Kyle needs a sister. Maybe a brother, too. Possibly even a couple of them."

Megan laughed quietly. "Let's not get ahead of ourselves."

"But you want more, don't you?"

"Let's have one more and see how that goes."

"I guess I could live with that." He ran his hand over her belly. "I want to see you round and pregnant with my baby."

She groaned. "I was as big as a house with Kyle, pregnant from head to toe."

"I can't wait to see that."

"My back hurt like crazy for months."

"I'd rub it every day."

She rolled her head back on his shoulder so she could look up at him. "You're sure you really want to saddle yourself with all this? A woman you've known a week, a baby who isn't yours-"

"I want him to be mine. I mean, look at him." Dean ran a finger over the baby's milk-dampened cheek. "He's so perfect. I want to see him walk, run, swim and talk back to us. I can't wait for all of that."

"What if it turns out to be too much for you? A few months down the road, what if you start to feel confined, or unhappy—"

Placing two fingers gently over her lips, he said, "all I can tell you is that I'm almost thirty-five years old, and I've never felt anything even close to what I feel when I'm with you; the both of you."

Megan's eyes glistened with tears. "I don't know what I did to get so lucky."

"You crashed into me on that big old bike of yours."

"I'm fairly certain we've determined 'the accident' was your fault."

Brushing his lips over her forehead, he continued to watch intently as she moved Kyle to the other side. "That 'accident' might turn out to be the best thing to ever happen to me."

"That's funny," she said, "because last night I had the very same thought."

Dean awakened ninety minutes later to someone banging on the door. Groaning, he willed whoever it was to go away and leave them alone. Megan stirred next to him and, wanting her to sleep a while longer, he quickly got up, pulled on a pair of shorts, and went to the door.

"Mom," he said, shocked to see her.

"Dean."

"What're you doing here?" he whispered as he stepped onto the porch and closed the door behind him.

He watched her take a quick survery of his bare chest and whisker-roughened jaw. "I've come to get you."

He ran his fingers through his hair, hoping to bring some order to it. "Get me? What're you talking about?"

"This is entirely unseemly." She gestured to the apartment. "The whole town is talking about you sleeping with her. I won't have it!"

Dean laughed, which seemed to infuriate her. "Is that so? You do realize that I'm almost thirty-five, right?"

"I don't care how old you are, Dean Jonathan Ambrose, let me just tell you—"

This was bad if she was bringing out the big Jonathan gun. She was the only one who ever called him that awful name. "No, Mom, let me tell you. I love her and I'm going to marry her and adopt her son, so you'd better get onboard or get out of the way. Your choice."

Her blue eyes almost popped out of her skull. "Marry her? You're going to marry her? Have you lost your damn mind?"

"I've lost my heart—finally—and you can either be part of it or not. That, too, is up to you."

"This is the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard—"

Dean held up his hand to stop her. "This conversation is over. I'm going back inside now, and you need to be on your way. In fact, I'd appreciate it if you found someone else to cover for Megan this weekend at the hotel. We need to spend some time together. We've got a lot of plans to make."

"I don't know what's gotten into you—"

"Love, Mom. That is what has gotten into me, and it's the best thing to ever happen to me. Maybe we'll stop by this weekend to see you and Dad. If we do, I'd advise you to be nice to my future wife and son. Have a good day."

Leaving her staring at him with her mouth hanging open, Dean stepped inside the apartment and closed the door. His heart was racing fast from the burst of adrenaline, he stood there for a second until he heard her car drive off, sending gravel flying in her wake.

"That was pleasant," Megan said.

He glanced over to find her sitting up with the sheet wrapped tight around her. The image of the wall going back up wasn't lost on him. He slid back into bed and reached for her. Kyle was still asleep on the other side of her. She resisted Dean's efforts to embrace her.

"Don't. Please don't pull away from me again because of her. I can't deal with that."

"I can't deal with coming between you and your mother."

"She'll come around. It is nothing against you—"

Megan released a sharp laugh. "Sure it isn't."

"She has this idea of who I belong with—"

"And it certainly isn't the town tramp."

"Megan, honey, please. Don't hold her aginst me." He coaxed her into his arms and tugged at the sheet until he rached the warm, soft skin he craved. "I love you," he whispered as he kissed his way down the front of her. "That is all that matter." Capturing a pebbled nipple between his teeth, he finally felt her resistance begin to give way to desire. Relief coursed through him. "Did you hear me tell her to find someone to cover for you this weekend?"

"Mmm," she said, tightening her grip on his hair. He ran his tongue in circles around her nipple. "Know what that means?"

"What?" she asked, breathless.

"That we have three whole days together with no work and no obligations."

"We still have the daycare this afternoon."

"That's nothing. What should we do with the rest of the day?"

"I can't think of a thing," she said with a suggestive smile that reminded him of something else he needed to take care of—immediately.

He kissed her cheek and then her lips. "Hold that thought. I'll be right back.


	14. Chapter 14

Hoping Megan would go back to sleep for a while, Dean went outside to call Seth. "Hey, buddy, where are you?"

"I just got into Point Judith, why?"

Dean swore under his breath. "I need a favor. Are you coming back to the island today?"

"I'm afraid not. I've got Homeland Security coming to do an inspection next week that I'm totally not ready for. I'll be in the office the rest of the day, but I'll be back over tomorrow. Why? What do you need?"

"It's kind of embarrassing, and now it's even more embarrassing because I'm going to have to get my sister to do it for me."

"Please tell me that you're not talking about—"

"Don't say it; please do not say it."

Seth howled with laughter. "What are you, fifteen?"

"It's an issue for Megan, not me. She doesn't want it all over the island, and you know it will be if I get them."

That seemed to stifle some of Seth's laughter. "Well, do be sure to let me know what Nikki has to say about this."

"I'm sure you'll find it entertaining."

"No doubt," Seth cleared his throat. "So, um…I saw her last night."

"Where?"

"At the Beachcomber after she babysat for you guys."

"That brat! She was supposed to go right home."

"I know this is a newsflash to you, Dean, but she's a full-grown adult."

"She is still my baby sister."

"Who you're sending to buy condoms for you today," Seth once again dissolved into laughter. "Not such a baby anymore, huh?"

"Shut up," Dean growled. "I hope you behaved yourself with her."

"The word condom never came up. Not that I would've minded…"

"You're very funny."

"I just don't get…"Seth stopped himself.

"What?"

"Nothing; it doesn't matter."

"Tell me; come on, Seth.

"Why do you think that guy who supposedly can't wait to marry her never shows his face on the island?"

"He's finishing medical training. You know how that can be."

"All I know is that if she were mine, wild horses wouldn't keep me away."

Dean winced. "You ever think about just telling her that?"

Seth released a bitter laugh. "Right, like I can compete with Dr. John Cena and all their history. That'd be a suicide mission."

"Well maybe if she knew, it'd make a difference."

"It wouldn't, and she's never going to know, you got me, Dean? Don't say a word to her. I mean that."

"I never would, but you should. What've you got to lose?"

"Her friendship and that would be truly unbearable."

"I'm sorry it's so hopeless," Dean said with a sigh. "I have a whole new appreciation for how hard this must be on you."

"It is what it is. Hey, I gotta split, but do let me know how the rubber run goes, huh?"

"Go to hell," As Seth laughed at his own joke, Dean slapped the phone closed. His stomach clutched with nerves when he realized Nikki really was his only other option. His father would do it for him, but he couldn't ask him. Even at almost thirty-five, he just couldn't. Swallowing hard, Dean flipped open the phone and called Nikki.

"Hey, brat, what are you doing?" Dean considered telling her about their mother's visit that morning, but decided against it. He wanted to forget the whole unfortunate encounter.

"I'm heading into work, why?"

"I need another favor."

"You want to go out again tonight?"

"No, not exactly."

"Then what do you need?"

"I need you to, um, well…If you could go to Gold's," Dean said, referring to the island drugstore, "and just, you know…"

"What, Dean? Spit it out, will ya?"

"I need you to buy condoms for me. A lot of them."

Dead silence.

"Nikki?"

"You have got to be kidding me."

"I can't do it! It'll be all over the island in ten minutes, and Megan can't deal with that."

"Get Seth to do it for you!"

"I already did. He is off the island until tomorrow."

"So then just abstain for one night!"

"Nikki, please. I'm desperate here."

"You can't ask me to do this. It's too embarrassing."

"How do you think I feel about asking my baby sister to do this for me?" He let out what he knew was a pathetic wail. "Nikki…I need you."

"Don't do that. Don't you dare play the need card."

"Pretty please, with a cherry on top?"

She let out a swear that shocked him to his core. "Fine," she said through gritted teeth. "But you'll owe me forever, do you hear me? There's no statute of limitations on what you'll owe me."

"I understand."

"I don't think that you do. For the rest of your natural life, anytime I say, 'Jump,' you say, 'How high, Nikki? How high can I jump for you?' Anytime I snap my fingers, you come running. Any. Time. Am I clear?"

"Crystal."

"I'll need at least a hundred dollars."

"What the hell for?"

"It is for buffer items, you buffoon. I can't just go in there and buy a gross of condoms and walk out."

"So you're going to soak me for a year's supply of nail polish and tampons?"

"That's the very least of what you'll owe me."

"Fine, I'll bring it to the pet clinic."

"You can pay me later. I can't look at you right now. Meet me at noon behind the Beachcomber, and do not look at me. Just take the bag, give me the money, and walk away."

"I love you, Nikki. Have I mentioned that to you lately?"

"Screw you."

Holding back a laugh, he said, "Get the extra-large ones for me, okay?"

"I hate you."

Dean returned to Megan's and found her and Kyle still sleeping. He checked his watch and decided this would be a good time to take care of something else he'd been putting off. Taking his keys off the table, he tiptoed out of the apartment. In the driveway, he rolled the motorcycle to the street before he kick-started it. Driving along the south coast, he noticed dense fog—an island staple in June—clinging to the horizon as the sun fought to break through. Dean pulled into the parking lot at the South Point Light and killed the engine. He pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and called his brother Elias, who was on speed dial, along with Tye, Braun, and Nikki.

"Hey, man," Elias said.

"Did I wake you up? You sound kind of rough."

"Nah, just a late night, but I'm on the way to the studio now. What's up with you?"

"This and that. How're you? How is the recording going?" After years of struggle and toil, a small Nashville label had recently signed Elias.

"It's the most fun I've ever had in my life."

"That's awesome. Been a long time coming."

"You know it. So, Nikki emailed me that you're on the island. What brought that on?"

"Did you hear that Dad is selling the marina?"

"No way!"

"Yeah, I'm doing some repairs for him and toying with the idea of relocating my life, and maybe keeping the place in the family."

"Are you serious? You won't go nuts stuck on that island?"

"A few things have changed for me lately."

"What could've possibly changed to make that place look good to you?"

"I actually met someone—someone you know, in fact."

"Who?"

"Megan Wright."

"Oh, really? Wow."

"I hear you've got some history with her."

"Dean, wait. You don't understand—"

It took everything Dean had to keep from yelling at his brother. "You're damned right I don't understand," he managed to say calmly, even though he churned inside. This whole thing made him sick.

"It was Baron. He started it and told us to go along with him or else."

"Or else what?"

"He was like a god in high school. No one wanted to piss him off. When he told us to do stuff, we did it."

"How could you be part of something like this, Elias? After everything Dad was always hammering into our heads about how to treat women?"

"Believe me; it's eaten at me over the years. I never felt good about it."

"What you guys did to her ruined her life. Do you realize that? It ruined her."

"It was high school. How could it ruin her life?"

"Because she's never shaken it! The whole island thinks she's a tramp, and until last night, she'd only had sex twice in her life!"

"God," Elias said softly. "I had no idea…"

"You are going to fix it."

"What do you mean?"

"Here is what I want you to do."

Dean's next stop was Baron Corbin's body shop. The place looked well-kept and, judging by the cars lined up out front, it was busy. At the front desk, Dean asked for Corbin.

"Who should I tell him is calling?" the dowdy-looking receptionist asked.

"An old friend."

She got up and went through the door to the work area, returning a few minutes later with Baron, who was greasy, dirty and thirty pounds overweight. His hairline had receded into unattractive baldness. The 'god' who'd once been able to intimidate a legion of boys into going along with his every plan had clearly fallen a few notches in the twelve years since graduation. From the quirk in his lips, Dean could tell that Baron recognized him.

"What do you want?"

"Can I have a word with you outside?" without waiting for Baron to reply, Dean turned and went out the door.

"I heard you were back in town," Baron said as he followed Dean outside.

Dean kept his back to the other man, planning to give him the benefit of the doubt. Baron snickered. "You and Megan Mattress, huh? Have you ever seen knockers quite like those?"

Screw the benefit of the doubt. Dean spun around and plowed his fist in Baron's doughy face. Knocked to the dirt, Baron flopped around like a fish out of water. Blood poured from his nose. "What the hell was that for?" he sputtered. "What the hell is your problem?"

Dean reached down with one hand and hauled Baron to his feet. Speaking right into his fat, red face, Dean said, "What you did to her—that's my problem."

Baron tried to wriggle free. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Yes, you do." Dean tightened his hold. "You know exactly what I'm talking about."

Baron wiped at the blood on his face and winced when he connected with his bloody nose. "I'll have you arrested."

"No, you won't." Dean released him abruptly, and Baron stumbled backward. "Do you have any idea what you did to her? What your stupid-ass-she-rejected-me-so-I'll-make-her-pay crap did to her life?"

"I rejected HER!"

"Oh, rewriting history now, huh?" Dean raised an eyebrow. "She didn't want you, so you trashed her all over town."

"That is not what happened."

"My brother Elias confirmed her account. Right now, he's contacting everyone else who was involved." The bead of sweat that appeared on Corbin's brown pleased Dean. "Are you married, Baron?"

"Yeah," he muttered, sending a nervous glance at the office, where the receptionist watched them anxiously through the window.

"Is that your wife in there?"

"So what if it is?"

"What version of this story do you want her to hear? Mine or yours?"

"Are you threatening me?"

"You bet your ass that I am. Here's what you're going to do."

Dean returned to Megan's bearing a handful of wildflowers he'd picked by the side of the road. She was on the floor with Kyle, who was engaged in a battle with the baby gym propped over him. When she saw the flowers, her eyes went soft with emotion. "They're beautiful," she said, getting up to find a vase. "What's the occasion?"

Dean came up behind her, nuzzled her neck and planted as kiss on her warm skin. "To say thank you for the best night of my life."

"Oh,"

"What?" he asked. "It wasn't good for you, too?"

"You know that it was."

"But…?"

She turned to him, her face unreadable. "I can't stop thinking about the things your mother said."

Dean wanted to scream with frustration, but he showed her none of that. "Forget it; she can't get to us unless we let her, and I have no plans to let her."

Megan linked her hands behind his neck and brought him down for a kiss. Running her tongue back and forth over his lips, she had him fired up and ready in two seconds flat. He groaned. "That's more like it."

"Did you take care of our problem?"

"All set."

Pressing against his straining erection, she said, "Who is doing it? Seth?"

Dean was having trouble thinking, let alone talking. "He's off-island."

"Then who?"

"It might be better if you didn't know."

Her face slackened with shock. "Tell me you did not ask your sister."

"It was either that or wait for Seth to get back tomorrow." He cupped her bottom to pull her in tighter against him. "I didn't think that would work for us."

"I'll never be able to look at her again."

"Sure you will." Remembering the meeting with Nikki, he checked his watch.

Megan gasped. "What happened to your hand?" She ran her fingers softly over purple and swollen knuckles. "Did you hit someone?"

"Of course not; I just banged it on something."

She raised a skeptical eyebrow. "On what?"

"I think it's when I ran up the stairs earlier and it connected with the rail. It was stupid." He kissed her nose. "Don't worry about it."

Hands on hips, she said, "I want to know who you hit and why."

Taken aback, Dean studied her. "Is this the kind of wife you're going to be?"

"Yes, now, who'd you hit? It wasn't your mother, was it?"

Dean laughed and then squirmed under the heat of her glare. "It was a misunderstanding."

"Was it over me?"

"It wasn't anything like that."

"You're lying, Dean. I'm not a child who needs you to protect me."

"Maybe I need to protect you." He rested his hands on her shoulders and tried to massage away the tension. "Please don't make me tell you about it. It's over and done with."

Megan studied him for a long moment. Then she went to the freezer, retrieved an ice pack and wrapped it around his hand. She look up at him with those potent eyes. "Don't keep things from me, and do not lie to me; ever."

"Okay,"

"Those are deal-breakers for me, Dean. I mean it."

He swallowed hard. "I understand." Caressing her cheek, he leaned in to kiss her. "I need to go meet Nikki, and after that, would you want to go to the beach for a while?"

"I don't like going to the beach."

"You live on an island. How can you not like going to the beach?"

She shot him her now-familiar withering look. "I'm not big on giving out cheap thrills."

"I'll be there to scare the mean boys away."

"They'll still be gawking."

"So let them gawk. They can't touch you if you don't let them—and you know I mean that entirely figuratively."

"And you'll be just fine with the gawking?"

"I'll just ignore it."

"Well," she said, "I suppose you can't punch anyone else today with your hand all bruised and battered."

He flashed his most charming grin. "I've still got a mean left hook."


	15. Chapter 15

****A/N****

 **Hey guys! I apologize for the delay in getting this chapter out. I've had a lot of things going on personally and was having a hard time with it, but I powered through and banged it out. Even though I had to write it twice since it didn't save.**

Nikki was waiting for him when he arrived at the back steps to the Beachcomber. As Dean approached, her eyes narrowed. Uh-oh. She swung the bag and smacked him right upside the head.

"Hey! That hurt!"

"Mrs. Gold herself was working the register. You know what she said to me?" Without taking a breath, Nikki launched into Mrs. Gold's nasally New York accent. "My oh my, Nikki, Doctor John must be coming for a good long visit this weekend."

Dean knew it wasn't a good idea, but he laughed anyway. She pelted him again with the bag. "It's not funny! I have to live in this town!"

He attempted to wipe the smile off his face and withdrew a wad of twenties from his pocket. Nikki snatched the money and thrust the bag at him. "It's going to take years of therapy to recover from his."

"You're the best, Nikki." Dean gave her a noisy smooch on the cheek.

She pushed him away. "I hate you more than anything."

He poked her ribs. "Do not."

I'm off to get a brain scrub to erase this unsavory incident from my memory."

"Come by Megan's this weekend. Let's all hang out."

"No way am I coming near the two of you until the supply is exhausted."

Dean grinned. "We'll be giving thanks to Nikki every time."

Hands over her ears, she shrieked and stalked off. Dean laughed all the way home.

Even through Megan wore a conservative one-piece bathing suit, sure enough; every guy on the beach checked her out. Dean told himself it didn't matter, but he was lying. He wondered if he'd ever behaved so stupidly around a full-figured woman. Probably. A nearby group of young men were particularly enthralled, and Dean glared at them.

"Lucky man," he heard one of them say with a snicker. It took every ounce of self-control Dean possessed to keep from going over there to smack the smirk off the guy's face.

"See? I told you," Megan said.

"What?"

"That you wouldn't like it."

"They're idiots."

"Men will be men. They can't help themselves." She reached for her t-shirt to cover up.

"Don't," Dean said, resting his hand on her arm. "Don't let them bother us."

"Well, that is easy for you to say. They aren't gawking at you."

Dean's cell phone rang, and he dug it out of his backpack. He didn't recognize the Gansett number but took the call anyway.

"Hi, Dean," a breath female voice said. "I hope its okay that your mother gave me your number."

"I'm sorry, who is this?" he asked, even though he had a sneaking suspicion.

She giggled. "Kelly; we met the other night at Ambrose's? Your mother said—"

"Whatever she told you, it was bad information. I'm seeing someone."

"I heard about that. Megan, right? I don't know her, but then again, we don't exactly run in the same circles."

"Lucky for her."

"Excuse me?"

"Listen, Kelly. I'm not interested. I'm sorry if that hurts your feelings, but please do not call me again." Regretting taking the call, he closed his phone before she could reply and stashed it in his bag.

"She doesn't give up, does she?"

"Who? Kelly?"

Megan rolled her eyes at him. "No, your mother."

He shrugged, knowing he needed to act fast—again—to minimize the damage with Megan. "That's her problem, not ours." He scooped up Kyle and reached out to Megan. "Come on, let's go swimming."

She hesitated for only a second before she took his hand. At the water's edge, she eyed the waves with trepidation. "He's never been in the water before. I don't know if he'll like it."

"We'll take it nice and slow." As they waded into the surf, Dean dipped the baby's feet into the cool water. Kyle bicycled his legs and let out a happy squeal that made them laugh. "Just like the bathtub, buddy, only bigger." After half an hour of wave jumping, Dean stretched out on the wet sand at the water's edge and dug a small hole for Kyle to sit in. the waves rushed to the beach, making a pool out of the hole. Kyle splashed and shrieked as Dean drizzled wet sand on his chubby legs.

Dean looked up at Megan, who was taking pictures of them. "I think it's safe to say that he likes the beach."

"We'll be washing sand out of his crevices for a month."

Dean laughed and plopped an even bigger pile of wet sand on Kyle. They played until Kyle began to rub at his eyes with sandy hands. "Whoa, dude," Dean said, grabbing the baby's hands. "Don't do that."

Kyle let out a lusty wail of distress.

Dean took him back in the water to rinse off as much of the sand as he could. Removing Kyle's tiny bathing suit, he cleaned him up and carried him back to Megan for a diaper.

"You've become an old pro."

"He makes everything fun."

Megan smiled at him. "So do you."

Dean slid a hand around her neck and brought her in for a tender kiss. "That's nice of you to say." He reached for the baby and lowered himself into a beach chair. Megan prepared a bottle. "Do you want me to feed him?"

"Nope, I got it."

Once the bottle was finished, Dean burped him and snuggled him in close. The baby's sweet breath fanned against his neck. "Is he out?"

"Like a light. You can put him down if you want to." They'd brought an umbrella and set up a spot for Kyle to nap.

"That's okay. I like holding him." He tugged a beach towel up over the baby to protect him from the sun.

"What would your friends in WWE say if they could see you right now?"

"They'd never believe it."

"What will you do about going back on the road?"

"I've been thinking a lot about it lately, and I think that it is time for me to take a break. My contract is up in April. I don't think that I'll resign and take some time off just to live my life."

"Will they be mad that you're not going back?"

"Maybe so, but I've busted my ass year after year for them. It is now time for me to take care of me."

"It'll be a blow to them to lose you."

Dean sighed. The same thought had been weighing on him since he'd decided to stay on the island. "They've been texting me with all kinds of character development and offers to get me to stay. We've got a lot going on right now with WrestleMania coming up."

"Did you have a girlfriend there?"

Dean glanced at her, not sure where this was heading. "Sort of."

Megan laughed. "How can you 'sort of' have a girlfriend?"

"I dated my assistant for a while—and yes, I know that's a terrible cliché—but we didn't see each other outside of televised events, which irritated her. But that was over before I came home."

"What's her name?"

"Renee."

"Is she beautiful?"

"You're beautiful."

"Nice try. What does she look like?"

"She's short with buck teeth and a wart on her nose. Nothing at all to look at."

Megan dissolved into laughter. "You're so full of it. She probably looks like a supermodel."

Dean linked fingers with hers. "She can't hold a candle to you. The second I saw you, every other woman faded to the background. You're the only one who matters now—the only one who's ever mattered."

"Dean…you're so sweet." She brought their joined hands to her lips. "Now tell me, what does she really look like?"

He laughed at her persistence. "Well, she has six toes on her left foot."

"Dean!"

After they finished the shift at the daycare, Dean told Megan he had an errand to run and would be back shortly. He sat on the sofa to tie his running shoes.

"So you're literally going to run?" Megan asked.

"Yep."

She eyed the bag from Gold's on the counter. "Do you think maybe you could hurry up?"

Dean stood and wrapped his arms tight around her. "I'll be so fast you won't even know I'm gone."

She ran the tip of her tongue over his neck. "I'll get Kyle fed and put down while you're gone."

Dean shuddered. "Hold that thought."

"Hurry!"

He had never moved faster as he jogged over to pick up the black SUV he'd spotted for sale earlier in the day. After completing the transaction, he enjoyed the smooth ride and the easy way it handled. Dean went next to the grocery store and bought a rotisserie chicken and salad for dinner and was back to Megan's in forty-five minutes. He walked in to soft music, candlelight, and the blinds were drawn with the bed had been pulled out.

She came out of the bathroom waring the nightgown. Crossing her arms, she leaned against the wall and looked at him with hungry eyes. "What took you so long?"

Stemming the urge to drool, Dean stashed the grocery bags in the refrigerator. "I need to take a shower," he said.

Megan put her hand on his chest and directed him to the bed. "No, you don't."

"But I'm all sweaty—"With her hands in his hair, she dragged him down to her and kissed the life out of him. The back of his knees connected with the bed, and he tumbled backward, bringing her with him.

"Did this seem like a really long day to you?" she asked between torrid kisses.

"Mmm, the longest day ever." He tried to roll them over, but she stopped him.

"Can we do it like this?" she asked, her cheeks flaming with color.

"Baby, we can do it any way you want, as long as we do it very, very soon."

She bit her bottom lip and smiled down at him, causing his heart to skip a beat. He reached up to bury his fingers in her hair and brought her back to him. "Have you done it this way before?"

She shook her head.

"You'll like it."

"Will you like it?"

Dean laughed. "Absolutely." He ran his hands over the silky gown, gathering it up as he went. "Can we lose this or do you want to leave it on?"

"It can go."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes! Hurry!"

Moving quickly, they got rid of the rest of their clothes and broke open one of the new boxes of condoms. "Let me," Megan said, taking the foil package from him.

Dean exhaled a long deep breath and counted backward from one hundred as she used her teeth to tear open the package, keeping her eyes fixed on his as she rolled it slowly over him. "You're so hard," she whispered, shifting her eyes from his face to his groin. "Doesn't that hurt?"

"No," he said with a groan. "But if you don't more a little faster, we'll miss the best part."

When he was finally sheathed, Megan straddled him, and Dean decided he'd truly died and gone to heaven as she slowly took him in and began to ride him with tremendous enthusiasm—as if she'd been waiting forever to give this a whirl. Her heavy breasts swayed in time with the movements of her hips. With his arms around her, Dean brought her with him when he sat up against the back of the sofa, putting him at face level with her breasts. He filled his hands and then his mouth.

Megan threw her head back, lost in sensation. Because he was watching her so closely, he saw the change come over her as she reached the first peak and then came down to discover he wasn't finished with her. "Do it again," he whispered.

"I can't," she said, spent.

"Yes, you can." He leaned her back against his raised knees and used his hips to life her up and down. She gasped as he went deeper than before.

"Did that hurt?" he asked.

Apparently unable to speak, she shook her head. Dean took advantage of her preoccupation to skim his hands over her toned legs and belly, causing her to quiver under his touch. As he stepped up the rhythm of his hips, his fingers focused on the pulsating bundle of nerves between her legs, drawing a long, keening moan from her. Once again, her thighs tightened around him, and her body stiffened with fulfillment.

Dean kept a tight hold on her hips as he went with her, his face buried between her breasts. Sagging into him, Megan wrapped her arms around him and held on tight as he continued to pulse inside her. He combed his fingers through her hair. "Did you like it?"

"Oh yeah," she said breathlessly.

Dean's soft laugh was interrupted when she raised her head to kiss him.

"How soon until we can do it again?"

"I've turned you into a regular sex fiend."

She bit his neck. "How soon?"

Dean flinched as a zap of pure lust raced through him. He smoothed his hands down her back to cup her soft buttocks. "How does right now sounds?"

"Perfect," she said with a sigh of contentment.

"Where did you go before?" she asked after they ate a picnic dinner in bed.

Dean yawned and ran a hand through his hair. "I bought Kyle a car."

Megan sat right up. "What?"

Laughing, he guided her back down. "We needed a way to get the three of us around, so I bought a truck."

"I can't believe you just went out and bought a truck."

"Why not? We needed it." Dean reached up to turn off the light. "This was a nice day."

"This was a great day."

"We'll have many more just like it too."

"You're starting to make me believe it's really going to happen."

Dean turned on his side and caressed her face. "Well, believe it. You and Kyle have given me so much—things I didn't even know were missing."

"And you've given us things I knew were missing but never dreamed of having."

"I love you," he whispered. "I want everything with you."

"If I'm dreaming, don't tell me, okay? I don't want to wake up."

Smiling, he snuggled her in close to him. "Go to sleep wand dream about how good it's going to be." He whispered to her about plans, dreams, houses and kids until he was certain she had fallen asleep. Only then did he close his eyes and drift off.

He woke the next morning alone. "Megan?"

She emerged from the bathroom dressed in a floral skirt and matching top. He pushed up on an elbow. "What're you doing?"

"I'm going to church. Kyle and I go every Sunday at nine. We only missed last week because I was a bloody mess."

"Oh."

"Would you like to join us?"

"I'm not very religious."

"That's fine. We'll be home in an hour. Why don't you go back to sleep for a while?"

"I can't sleep without you."

She bent over to kiss him. "Don't pout. It's not pretty on you."

He pulled her down with him and kissed her more intently.

"Dean!"

"You're sexy in your church clothes."

"Let me go! I'll be late."

"You're really going to leave me for a whole hour?" he asked, releasing her.

"You'll survive."

"I might not."

"Then come with us."

"I haven't been in twenty years. You'd be risking your life taking me into a church—the lightning bold and all that."

Rolling her eyes at him, she went into a bedroom and returned with Kyle, who wore a tiny red polo shirt and khaki shorts and sandals. "Don't be ridiculous. There's no lightning in our church."

"You're going to leave me, too, buddy?" Dean said to Kyle. "This is our time together."

Kyle kicked his feet and reached for Dean.

"Traitor," Megan muttered, giving the baby to Dean so she could finish getting ready.

By the time she came out of the bathroom again, Dean was dressed. "Give me five minutes."

Megan stared at him.

"What?"

"You're really going to come?"

"Since it's either that or live without you for an hour, yeah, I'm coming."

She shook her head. "You are too much."

On his way past her, he hooked an arm around her and brought her in close to him. "If you ever wonder how much I love you, remember this day."

"It's only eight-thirty, and I already know I'll never forget this day."


	16. Chapter 16

_****A/N****_

 _ **Hey guys! I'm so sorry for the long delay in the next chapter. I just had a lot going on and ended up with some writer's block. But I'm back! Enjoy this chapter, and the cliffhanger.**_ __

On the way to North Harbor Monday morning with Megan behind him on the bike, Dean relived the best weekend of his life. After church on Sunday, he'd unearthed an infant life jacket from his father's garage and took Kyle and Megan on a ride around the Salt Pond in his father's vintage Chris-Craft. Kyle had loved being on the water.

They'd met his parents for a drink at the Tiki Bar afterward, during which his mother seemed to make an attempt to be friendly to Megan but gave Dean the cold shoulder. He figured she'd come around in time and decided not to waste any time worrying about it. Linda even took a turn holding Kyle, who reduced Vinnie Mac to mush with his sweet disposition. For the most part, it had been a successful visit, and Dean was more hopeful about talking a harmonious step into matrimony.

Married.

God, a couple of weeks ago the word would've given him hives. Now here he was with the woman he loved on the back of his bike and a baby he wanted to do everything for. It was amazing to him what a difference the right woman made. Pulling up to the hotel, Dean parked and cut the engine. He helped her off the bike and removed the helmet.

"I want you to take it easy today. That elbow still looks bad. Don't bang it on anything."

"I won't, don't worry."

"I'll be right down the hill." He pointed to the marina. "You can look out the window and see me on the roof."

She reached up to caress his face. "Be careful up there. I've become quite fond of this body, and I want it all in one piece." Her hand moved from his face to his chest and began to slide south.

He stopped her at his belly. "Don't start anything you can't finish," he growled. "I already hate that I have to let you go for six whole hours."

"You're pouting again."

"Come see me at lunchtime?"

"I will if I can get away."

Dean gave her a lingering kiss. "Try hard."

She clung to him. "I have to go," she whispered.

"Okay."

Neither of them let go of the other. He kissed her forehead and then her lips. "Go, I'll pick you up at a quarter to three."

"You won't be done working by then. I can get a ride home."

"I'll be here, and don't you dare let me see you on the back of anyone else's motorcycle."

Megan giggled. "No worries," she slung her tote bag over her shoulder and gave him a sultry look. "Yours is the only motor I want between my legs."

Dean groaned at the suggestive comment and rested against the bike to watch her fine rear end stretch against tight denim shorts as she walked up the hill. He whistled softly.

"Cut it out," she said over her shoulder, but he saw her smile.

"Megan."

She had reached to top of the hill and turned back, feigning exasperation. "What?"

"You forgot something."

"I did?"

He raised an eyebrow.

Her face flushed with color. "I love you."

Smiling, he said, "Now I can go to work." He slung his left leg over the bike, fired it up and turned toward the marina, feeling her eyes on him all the way down the hill.

At a picnic table outside the marina restaurant, Dean found his father entertaining a baby from one of the boats while holding court with Roman and several other locals. Each of them had a tall cup of coffee, and they were sharing a platter of sugar doughnuts.

"Hey!" Vinnie Mac shouted. "There he is! He's the man who's going to keep this place from falling down around me."

"Formidable task," Roman muttered.

"You said it," Dean replied. "Are any of my guys here yet?"

"I haven't seen them," Vinnie Mac said. He nudged his old friend, Hunter, the retired Gansett police chief, to make room for Dean.

"Let me get some coffee," Dean said. He returned a few minutes later and joined the men at the table.

Hunter reached for another doughnut.

"You're going to eat your way to diabetes," Vinnie Mac said to his friend as he kissed the baby and handed her back to her mother.

Roman licked the sugar off his fingers. "This is a hell of a way to get there." He wiped his face on his sleeve and turned to Dean. "I hear you're all shacked up with that gal from the hotel."

"Jeez," Dean said. "Cut right to the chase, why don't ya?"

"What gives?" Roman asked.

Vinnie Mac snickered but didn't bail out his son. The others leaned in, waiting for the scoop.

"Let's see: I love her, we're getting married, I'm staying here, probably going to take over this dump and see if I can save it from bankruptcy, I bought a new truck, I'm looking for some property to build a house on and, oh yeah, and I'm going to adopt her son. Is that good enough?"

The other men, including his father, stared at him, mouths hanging open.

"All of that, in a week?" Roman finally said.

"Yep." Dean drank his coffee and enjoyed a doughnut while the others processed the news.

"If you want property," Hunter said, "you've come to the right place."

"How's that?" Dean asked.

"Talk to Roman; he can fix you up." Vinnie Mac said.

Dean glanced at Roman, who squirmed in his seat. Vinnie Mac let out a lusty laugh. "Looks like you're about to be thrust outta the closet, old buddy."

Dean had no idea what they were talking about.

"Roman owns half this island, boy," Shawn Michaels said. "You want property for less than a mil, you go to him."

"I might even cut you a deal," Roman said gruffly.

Dean stared at him. "You drive a cab and dress like a hobo, and you own half this island?"

Vinnie Mac and the others howled with laughter.

"What the hell is wrong with the way I dress?" Roman huffed. "And I'll have ya know that I drive a cab because I like to. Owning property doesn't keep me all that busy, and sitting around the house watching soap operas ain't exactly my style."

"I'll be damned," Dean said. "You think you know a guy…"

As the construction workers Dean had hired arrived, they were welcomed into the circle. Dean hoped this would become his new routine as he settled into working at Ambrose's: waking up with Megan, taking a walk with Kyle and then coffee with his dad and the guys before beginning work for the day. That he could find such contentment and sense of purpose on an island that had once made him feel so confined still amazed him. Now he just had to find a way to tell the WWE that he wasn't renewing his contract.

Megan was greeting with hugs from coworkers full of questions about Dean. She filled them in as quickly as she could before Lana started spewing orders at them.

"Dean is soooooo cute," Beth Phoenix whispered to Megan.

"I never get tired of looking at him."

"And that he filled in here for you like that…" Beth rested a hand on her chest and seemed to swoon a bit.

"He wants to marry me and adopt Kyle," Megan whispered, dying to tell someone who would be happy for her. Paige didn't qualify.

"Oh my God," Beth squealed.

"Ladies, are you listening to me?" Lana barked.

"Yes, ma'am," they said together, choking back giggles.

When Lana went back to giving orders, Megan told Beth about the job offer at the Beachcomber. "I'd want to take you with me."

"Do you mean it?"

"Of course I do."

"Oh, Meg, I'm so happy for you. No one deserves all this more than you do."

Megan squeezed her friend's arm. "Thanks."

Later that morning, as his workers began removing the existing roof on the main building; Dean crawled around in the eaves and made an interesting discovery. Much of the building's frame had been recently replaced.

"What the hell?" he muttered. "Why wouldn't Dad have mentioned that?" It definitely made his job easier but presented a baffling mystery. Who would take the time and considerable effort—not to mention the expense—to prop up the sagging building? Certainly not Vinnie Mac, who seemed to do nothing more than land boats play with kids and pass the bull with his buddies these days. Dean took a closer look at the quality craftsmanship which had probably kept the building from falling down around them. "This is very interesting."

Climbing down the ladder from the attic, he couldn't figure out who could've done the work. Out of curiosity, he ducked into his father's office, which was located upstairs from the restaurant. On the desk were disorderly pile of paper, an open check register, discarded paper cups and general chaos. Dean groaned.

"It's quite a mess," a voice behind him said.

Dean turned to see Luke Harper standing there. "I didn't hear you come in."

Luke focused on the desk. "I can't remember the last time I saw him in here."

"Is that so?"

"He loves being out on the docks, hanging with people, and coming up with new ideas on how to grow the business. It's this part here that he tends to forget about."

Dean heard the affection for his father in Luke's voice. "Are the bills getting paid?"

"I doubt it."

Right in that moment, Dean got it. It made perfect sense. Everyone loved Vinnie Mac. Why not the quiet young man who'd worked for him for twenty summers? "You've been making the repairs, haven't you? That's what you're spending the money on."

"What money?"

"The money I've seen you pocketing."

"Let me guess, you thought I was stealing from him," Luke said, sounding bitter.

"I saw the new beams and couldn't figure out who would've done that. Since he never mentioned it, I figured he didn't know."

"The place is a wreck, and I'd tell him, 'Vince, we need to make some repairs around here.' He'd say, 'Oh, come on, Luke. We can get one more year out of it, can't we?' We've had that same conversation every May for four years."

Dean smiled. "I can picture that."

"Since all he wants to do is hang out with his buddies, I started working nights to prop up the roof before it collapsed and killed someone. I was relieved to hear he was finally going to let you replace it. One more good blow and we would've been screwed."

"You did a really good job."

"Thanks. Let me know what I can do to help with the rest of it."

"I appreciate that." After Luke went back to work, Dean stared at the mess on the desk, wondering how he'd manage to get the repairs done and reorganize the business at the same time. "It looks like I got here just in time."

Dean worked long days that week, spending hours in the hot sun on the roof and taking home stacks of paper from the office every single night to sort through. He quickly discovered the business was in arrears to just about every major supplier and talked to his father about writing some checks.

"Go right ahead," Vinnie Mac said. "You have the same name I do; sign away."

"Is there money in the account?"

"There is plenty."

"Is there a bank statement lying around somewhere so I can confirm that?"

Vinnie Mac gestured to the office. "Yes, it's in there somewhere."

"Fabulous."

Early each morning, he continued to take Kyle out for a walk, and on Tuesday they began work on a special project. Sitting in the South Harbor Diner, he propped the drooling baby up on the table so they faced each other. "Okay, buddy," Dean said, "let me hear you say Ma-ma. Ma-ma. You can do it."

"Mmmmm," Kyle said, chewing on his fingers.

"Close, but not quite." Dean tugged the fingers out of his mouth. "Ma-ma. Ma-ma."

More drool. "Mmmmm."

Dean was so focused on the baby that he didn't' see another man approach the table.

"He's awfully cute."

Dean glanced up and fought back a gasp.

"Do you mind if I join you?" Kyle Schwarber asked.


	17. Chapter 17

Dean lifted Kyle off the table and rested him on his shoulder, facing away from the elder Kyle. "Sure."

Kyle slid into the booth across from Dean and accepted a cup of coffee from the waitress.

"I didn't think you'd be hanging around," Dean said.

"I wasn't going to, but something about this island calls to me. I can't get my energy recharged here."

Dean once again found himself fighting for self-control when all he wanted to do was tell this guy what he really thought of him. "I've watched some of your games, even at Wrigley Field," he said, trying to stay on safe ground.

"Is that so?"

"Uh-huh." Dean wouldn't give him the satisfaction of hearing that he was a fan.

"May I be honest with you, Dean?"

"If you must."

"It took about thirty minutes on the island to find out that you and Megan aren't really married."

Dean's heart began to beat faster. "We will be soon."

As if Dean hadn't spoken, Kyle continued. "And to learn that you met her only a week or so ago."

Dean tightened his hold on the child in his arms. "What's it to you?"

Kyle sat back in the booth and stretched out an arm along the top. "Professional athletes are notorious womanizers, as you may know, but with a little research, I can add nine plus nine to determine that's probably my son you're holding there."

Dean swallowed a surge of panic. "He's Megan's son."

"No question about that. I guess the only remaining question is who's his daddy? A DNA test should straighten that right out, wouldn't you say?"

Dean refused to blink. "What do you want?"

Now Kyle leaned forward, arms resting on the table. "I want assurances that she's not coming after me for money."

"Has she done so, yet?"

"No, but that doesn't mean that she won't."

"She has no interest in you or your money. I can guarantee that."

"What about him?" Kyle nodded to the baby. "When he's old enough to know who his father is?"

"He will have a father, and he will want for nothing."

"Are you willing to put that in writing?"

"If you are willing to sign away your rights."

"I will have my lawyer draw up the documents."

With one arm tight around the child, Dean reached for his wallet and laid it flat on the table to withdraw a business card. "Send the papers to my lawyer in Vegas. They'll get them to me."

"And I won't hear from any of you again?"

"If you hadn't come here, you never would've heard from us in the first place. You have nothing that we need."

After a long pause, Kyle said, "Is he a good baby?"

"He's the best."

"I don't suppose…"

"Don't even ask."

Kyle shrugged, as if he couldn't care less, and apparently he couldn't, which was just fine with Dean.

"Can I ask you one thing?" Dean said.

"Sure."

"What kind of guy tells a woman he's had a vasectomy when he hasn't?"

"The kind who is allergic to latex, but loves having sex."

Dean stared at him, incredulous. Megan was lucky that Kyle was the only thing she'd gotten from this guy. "We're done here," Dean said, anxious to be rid of him.

The baseball player took the hint and stood up. "I'll be in touch."

Dean just nodded and watched him walk away, praying he'd leave the island before Megan ran into him again. Dean kissed Kyle's forehead. "Let's hope you got more of your momma in you than that scumbag, buddy."

"Mam."

Dean stared at him, breathless. "Ma-ma?"

"Mammm."

Dean grinned at the baby. "We're getting closer."

"Looks like it's going to rain," Dean said Thursday morning. "Let's take the truck. You can drive."

"I can't drive your new truck!"

"It's our new truck, and yes, you can. You do have a driver's license, don't you?"

She nodded. "But I haven't driven in ages, and the truck is so new and perfect."

Dean laughed at her distress. "It's yours to use whenever you need it. In fact…" He rummages around in his backpack and produced a set of keys. "Your own keys. I meant to give them to you before now."

Megan eyed the keys with trepidation as she reached out to take them. "All right," she said with a sigh, "but don't say that I didn't warn you."

"Before we go, Kyle and I have something we want to show you." Dean picked up the baby from his mat on the floor. "You ready, buddy?"

"AAyeyayyayay."

"I'll take that as a yes." Dean pointed to Megan. "Who's that? What's her name?"

Kyle looked from one of them to the other. In Kyle's ear, he whispered, "Mama." They'd had a breathrough that morning. Dean prayed the baby would do it again.

"Mama," Kyle said, clear as day.

Megan gasped. "Oh my God!" Tears sprang to her eyes. "Did he just say…Oh my God!"

"Mama," Kyle said again."

Megan burst into tears and reached for the baby, hugging him close to her. "I can't believe it! Where did that come from?"

"We've been practicing," Dean said, overwhelmed by her reaction.

"I just can't believe it."

Kyle ran a chubby hand over the tears on her face. "Mama."

"Yes, baby." She hugged him tight. "I'm your mama. Who's that crazy guy?" she pointed to Dean.

"Dada."

Dean's mouth fell open. "I swear, I didn't teach him that."

She laughed through her tears. "He seems to have come to that conclusion all on his own." Megan rached for Dean to bring him into their hug. "That was the best surprise ever. Thank yo u."

"It was all Kyle."

"With a little help from his dada."

After they dropped Kyle off with Paige, Megan drove painfully slow and made a full and complete stop at every intersection on the way to North Harbor.

"At this rate, we should get there by next Tuesday," Dean muttered.

"Be quiet. I'm concentrating." When they finally arrived, Megan released a long sigh of relief. "That was stressful."

"You'll get used to it."

"Whatever you say."

He kissed her and sent her on her way to the hotel. As she worked her way through her list of rooms, Megan thought about the job offer from the Beachcomber and how it would make her life—and Kyle's—much easier. She was on her last room when Beth came rushing in, clutching the _Gansett Gazette._

"You're all over the paper, Megan!"

A ripple of fear settled in Megan's belly. "What do you mean?"

"Look," Beth said as she thrust the paper at her.

Megan did a quick scan, gasping as she read on of the letters to the editor. "Oh my God. No. No!"

"You didn't know?" Beth asked, looking stricken.

"I have to go." Leaving the room unfinished, Megan rushed past her friend and headed for the stairs. On the hotel's expansive front lawn, she fought back tears as she lowered herself into one of the Adirondack chairs and read the letters.

 _To the Editor,_

 _I'm writing this letter to clear up a misunderstanding dating back to high school. Megan Wright did nothing to earn the nickname we gave her, and it was wrong of us to say what we did about her._

 _Baron Corbin; Gansett Island_

 __"Oh my God," Megan whispered as tears poured down her face. "How could he do this to me? I told him that stuff in confidence!"

 _To the Editor,_

 _It is with great shame that I write a letter that should've been written years ago. As a high school student concerned with the approval of my peers, I went along with something that I knew was wrong. It has haunted me ever since. Megan Wright was branded with a nickname she didn't deserve._

 _She was never anything but a lovely girl with a sweet personality who didn't deserve the way we treated her. The nickname she was given in high school was unfair and untrue. I regret the role I played in perpetuating rumors that have plagues her ever since._

 _I sincerely apologize._

 _Elias; Nashville, Tennessee_

Megan read letters from the four other men who'd participated in Baron's scheme. While none was as eloquent as Elias's, each said roughly the same thing. By the time she finished reading them all, her hands were shaking and her cheeks were wet with tears.

She glanced at the marina and saw Dean work on the roof. Oh, the things she'd like to say to him right now! Too bad she planned on not speaking to him, ever, again.


	18. Chapter 18

Roman broke the news to Dean—it took forever to get anything built on the island, especially a house. "We've got three guys in the building business, and they're all running about two years behind," Roman said.

"Damn," Dean said. "I guess that doesn't bode well for getting someone to help me build a house anytime soon." No way could he and Megan survive in that tiny apartment for two years, and it would take at least that long to build a house on his own.

"I've been thinking about that," Roman said. "I've got a few properties in inventory that might work for you, if you would like to take a look. Nice houses, good views, lots of property." Roman shrugged. "Might be quicker than building your own."

"Do you have time to show me these places today?"

"I have nothing but time, boy."

Dean let his guys know he was leaving for a while and followed Roman to the cab. Over the next two hours, they looked at five different properties, and as they drove around, a new idea began to germinate.

"Let me ask you something, Rome."

"What's up?"

"This building glut—you think there's room for a fourth guy in the mix?"

"Hell yeah. It's not just new stuff. You can't even get renovations done in less than a year."

"One of the things that's worried me about sticking around here full-time is what I'd do in the off-season."

"Now you know."

Dean laughed, and as simply as that, Ambrose Construction was born.

The fifth house they looked at called to Dean on first sight. An angular contemporary situated on six acres, the house faced a grassy meadow and the ocean beyond. Set back far enough from the coast to be out of danger during hurricane season, the house was mostly glass and deck.

"It was built in 1990, but it's been fully renovated," Roman said. "New hardwood floors, granite countertops, thermal windows, and the kitchen and bathrooms all redone."

Dean gazed at the cathedral ceiling in the living room, the stone fireplace, and the breathtaking views from every room and could picture himself living there with Megan and Kyle. Excitement coursed through him. He couldn't wait to show her.

"It's perfect. Just what I wanted."

"And you don't have to build it yourself."

"Even better." Dean ran a hand over sand-colored granite in the kitchen. "How's a place like this even available?"

"There is a major real estate glut on the island since the economy went bust. A lot of these houses are second homes for rich folk in Connecticut and New York. When the market imploded, they had to sell fast. I snapped up some great deals, and I've been sitting on them, waiting for the market to recover. I'll give you this one for what I paid for it." He rattled off a price that astounded Dean.

"It's easily worth twice that."

"I don't need the money, and you're family to me," Roman said gruffly. "You know I don't have kids of my own. You and yours are mine, so don't insult me by haggling about it."

Touched, Dean shook the other man's hand. "Thank you."

"I hope you and your little family will be happy here."

Dean took another long look around. "I know we will be."

Roman dropped him at the top of the road that led to the marina. Filled with anticipation, Dean whistled as he walked toward the main building. Vinnie Mac stepped away from the Waffle Ball game he was playing with kids from the boats. Dean stopped to wait for his father. "Wait until you see the house I found. It's fantastic."

"Son, Megan was here. She's real upset."

That stopped Dean cold. "What happened?"

"She saw today's paper."

Dean gasped. "It's already in?"

"Yeah."

"Shit! I thought I had at least another week to talk to her about it."

Vinnie Mac's normally amiable expression hardened. "Were you planning to tell me about what my son was involved in?"

"I figured it was up to Elias to tell you."

"One of you could've given me—and your mother—a heads-up. She's beside herself."

"All that mattered to me was restoring Megan's reputation."

Vinnie Mac held up the keys to the SUV. "She said to give you these because she won't need them anymore."

Fear crept up his spine as Dean took the keys from his father. "Where is she?"

"She took off about twenty minutes ago."

"Where was she going?"

"She didn't say."

Dean strode toward the truck. His father trailed behind him. "Son, wait." With his hand on Dean's arm, Vinnie Mac stopped him. "Don't go off half-cocked. Take a breath first."

"I need to find her, Dad. I have to fix this."

"You might want to give her some time to figure out that your heart was in the right place."

"Everything will be fine. I just need to see her and explain."

Vinnie Mac patted his face. "Call me later? Let me know you're all right?"

Dean nodded, got into the truck and raced into town. Wondering if she might refuse to see him, he broke into a cold sweat. She has to. We have to work this out. The alternative was simply unimaginable.

He pulled into Paige's driveway and generated a cloud of dust on his way back to Megan's. Pounding up the stairs, he stopped short at the sight of his backpack and running shoes sitting on the deck. She can't be serious.

After a deep breath to slow his racing heart, he knocked softly on the door. "Megan. Honey, open the door. I need to talk to you." He tried the door and was astounded to find it locked. "Baby, some on. Let me explain."

"She isn't going to talk to you—now or ever—so you should probably get your stuff and go," Paige said from the bottom of the stairs.

Dean spun around. "This is none of your business, Paige."

"Who do you think mops up the mess every time she gets shit on by a guy?"

"I didn't shit on her."

Paige shrugged with indifference that infuriated him. "Seems to me if you knew her at all, you'd get that being the center of attention in this town is the last thing she'd ever want."

"Even if it means restoring her reputation?"

"You are so clueless. You think you can come in here, wave your magic Ambrose wand and make everything all better. I hate to break it to you, ace, but it doesn't' work that way for the rest of us."

"This is between me and Megan. I'll wait to talk to her about it."

"She's not here."

"Where is she?"

"Even if I knew, you'd be the last person I'd tell."

He sat on the top step. "Then I'll wait for her. She has to come home eventually."

"Suit yourself, but it won't do you any good. Once Megan sees a guy's true colors, she doesn't give them second chances."

"That's good to know."

Paige turned, crossed the yard and disappeared into her house. Dean sat there for a long time before he heard the unmistakable sound of a baby crying inside the apartment. He jumped up and went to the door. "Megan, I know you're in there. I just want to talk to you. We can work this out."

Kyle's cries broke Dean's heart. He leaned his head against the door. "Megan."

"Go away, Dean!" she said through the open window. "I have nothing to say to you." Her voice was rough, as if she, too, had been crying.

"I'm not going anywhere until we talk."

After a long silence, the door finally opened. Dean was taken aback by her tear-ravaged face and saddened him to know that he was the cause. He reached for the screen door.

"Stay out there."

Kyle brightened at the sight of Dean and reached out for him. Through the screen, Dean pressed his hand to the baby's. "Hey, buddy."

"The other day, I told you that lying to me and keeping things from me were deal-breakers. You did both of those. What do we need to talk about?"

"I was going to tell you about the letters. I had no idea they'd run this week, or I would have told you."

"You could have told me the other day when I asked you who you had hit. It was Baron, wasn't it?"

Dean looked down at the deck.

"Are you still not willing to be truthful with me, Dean?"

"Yes, it was Baron! He made a crude comment about you, and I cold-cocked him. Does it make me a jerk that I didn't want you to know what he said about you?"

"I'm not some wilting rose who can't take life's harsh realities. By now, I'm an expert."

"That is why I didn't tell you. I don't want anyone to ever hurt you again."

"Instead, you are the one that hurt me. You took something I told you in the strictest of confidence and made sure that the whole town was once again talking about me."

"Megan, they needed to know you aren't the person they think you ar. How could I hear something like that, something that my own brother was involved in, and not try to make it right for you?"

"Did you really do it for me? Or was it for you, to make it easier to marry the town slut?"

As if she'd physically hit him, Dean stepped back, staggered by the accusation. "Baby, this was all about making things better for you! I never once considered how it would affect me."

Tears rolled down her cheeks. "I trusted you, Dean. I told you things I never tell anyone. I can't believe you'd do something like this and not even warn me."

"I was going to; I swear."

"You had ample opportunity. I can't be in this kind of relationship. I'm sorry. I appreciate all you did to help us when I was hurt, but it's over."

Dean had never been more desperate. "No, it's not. I love you and you love me. We can work this out."

"We have nothing if I can't trust you."

"But you can trust me. There's nothing I wouldn't do for you. You have to know that. What about all of our plans? How can you walk away from what we have together? Just today, I found us the perfect house. It's so beautiful, Megan, and I can see you there. I can see Kyle there. Are you really going to throw away everything we have over this?"

With her free hand, she swiped at the tears wetting her cheeks. "I'm sorry, Dean." She started to close the inside door, but he moved quickly to open the screen.

"Wait; please." He reached out to run a hand over her soft hair. "What am I supposed to do without you? Without Kyle?"

A sob shook her entire body.

"I love you so much; both of you. I'm sorry you were hurt by what I did. I just wanted everyone to know the Megan that I know. The Megan who is sweet, innocent, and so beautiful that she makes me ache. I wanted the people who hurt you to take responsibility for what they did to you."

Megan stepped back from him. "Did it ever occur to you that there are people on the island who didn't know? Who had never heard the rumors? Like the women that I work with, who will be full of questions now?"

"I didn't think about that."

"You didn't think at all—that's the problem."

"I couldn't let those guys go on with their lives without owning up to what they did to you. I was only thinking of you."

"If only you'd thought to discuss it with me instead of going off on a rogue mission that had more to do with your ego than with my reputation."

"That's just not true, Megan. I did it because I love you, and I wanted you to be able to live here in peace without rumors plaguing you. Half of your life was long enough to live like that."

"The other day, when I told you that lying and keeping things from me were deal-breakers; you'd already done this, hadn't you?"

Dean winced. "Yes."

"Didn't you think that would have been the ideal time to tell me?"

"We had a whole weekend free to be together, and I didn't want to spoil it by bringing that into it."

"Instead, you spoiled everything. I really want you to go now."

"Megan…"

With her face set in an unreadable expression, she held the door expectantly.

"I'll go, but this isn't over."

"Please get your stuff and just go, Dean."

"Dada," Kyle said, reaching for Dean.

Dean's eyes filled with tears. "Don't do this, Megan," he whispered. "I can't live without you."

She tightened her grip on the door and waited for him to move as new teas spilled down her cheeks. The moment he stepped onto the porch, the door slammed and the lock clicked into place.


	19. Chapter 19

_****A/N****_

 _ **Thank you all for the reviews on the last chapter! I love getting those e-mails that I have a new review! :] Just a little heads up, we have about 2 or 3 chapters left in this story, and I'm not currently planning a sequel. But I do have another story in the works! It's a little bit more heavy than this one, so keep an eye out for it! Thank you all again for the love.**_

 _ **-Glamahart32**_

Dean sat for a long time on Megan's top step, listening to her and Kyle inside going through the rituals of dinner, bath and bedtime. Even though she spoke softly to the baby, Dean could hear the tears in her voice. And Kyle seemed even fussier than usual; crying for long periods of time at Megan tried to calm him.

Dean buried his head in his hands. He couldn't believe how badly he'd screwed up the only relationship that had ever really mattered to him. The sun set, daylight faded to twilight and still he sat there.

"Dean."

He looked up to find Nikki at the bottom of the stairs. "What're you doing here?"

"Dad called me. He was worried when he didn't hear from you."

"I'm okay."

Nikki came up a few steps. "Why are you out here?"

"She's upset about the letters in the paper, but we'll work it out."

"Why don't you come home with me tonight?"

He shook his head. "I need to be here."

"You should give her some space, Dean. Maybe with a little time, she'll come around to see that you were just trying to help her."

"I don't know why she can't see that now!"

"She was caught off guard. We all were."

"I never meant for that to happen. I thought the letters would run next week and I would have the time to tell her, and Mom and Dad."

"You can't sit out here all night. Get your stuff and come with me."

Dean worried that if he left, he might never get the chance to come back.

"Come on." Nikki took his arm and helped him up. You'll feel better after you get some sleep."

Dean couldn't imagine sleeping without Megan. In one week's time, she'd become so essential to him. The thought that he might've lost her forever filled him with the kind of anguish he'd seldom experienced in his life.

"It's okay," Nikki said. "Everything will be okay."

Dean let her lead him down the stairs to the driveway. He looked back at Megan's place just as she turned off the last light. Imagining her crawling into bed upset and alone was more than he could bear.

"I can't lose her, Nikki. I just can't."

His sister kept a firm grip on his hand and carried his backpack as they walked to her house at the other end of town. "We'll figure something out in the morning."

Through the screen, Megan heard Nikki come to get Dean. While she was relieved he'd finally gone, she was also filled with overwhelming sadness. After what they'd shared, losing him was going to ruin her like none of her previous disappointments ever could have.

Reaching out to lay her fingers on the pillow that had become his, Megan choked back another sob. She brought the pillow closer and rested her face on it, drowning in his familiar scent and wetting the pillow with new tears.

"I know you meant well," she whispered. "I know that. But how could you not tell me? How could you keep a secret like this from me? How could you convince me to take this huge chance on you and then disappoint me this way?"

Her gut-wrenching sobs must've woken Kyle, because he let out a wail from his crib. Wiping her face, Megan got up to go to him. "What's the matter, baby?" Tuning into her distress, he'd crie3d more tonight than he had in months. She leaned into the crib to pick him up. Kyle clung to her, crying his little heart out.

"I know, baby. I know, but we'll be okay. We were okay before he came along and we'll be okay after." Even as she said the words, they rang hollow to her, and apparently to Kyle as well. He cried until his tiny body was worn out and shuddering. "I'm so sorry, Kyle. I wanted it to work out as much as you did, but I can't live with someone who thinks its okay to keep important things from me. I just can't."

Like she had when he was a newborn, Megan walked the baby from one end of the small apartment to the other until he finally fell into a fitful sleep. Then she broke one of her own rules by bringing him into bed with her so she wouldn't have to sleep alone.

Dean lay awake all night on Nikki's sofa. When daylight began to filter into the room, he got up, took a shower and got dressed for work. The simplest of tasks seemed to take all his energy, and the pit of emptiness inside him grew larger with every passing moment. As a quiet rain fell on the island, Dean walked along Water Street, past several bicycle rental outfits before he found one that was open.

"Morning," the young man in charge said. "Can I help you with something?"

"I'm looking to buy a bike, as close to new as you've got."

"Sure thing," He pulled out several before Dean found one that seemed to be in almost perfect condition. Painted a deep royal blue, the mountain bike had multiple gears and hand breaks. He'd wanted to buy her a new one, but this was the best he could do at the moment, and it was a major upgrade from what she'd had.

"I'll take a helmet, too, if you can spare one."

"No problem."

Ten minutes later, Dean rode the bike into Megan's yard, where his truck was still parked in the driveway. As he sat on the stairs and waited for her and Kyle to emerge from the apartment, the light rain became a downpour. Right on schedule, the door opened, and Megan stepped out with Kyle in her arms, both of them wearing yellow raincoats. The baby let out a happy squeal at the sight of Dean.

"What are you doing here?" Megan asked her face se in the closed, guarded expression he remembered from their first days together. After experiencing her open, loving side, the regression pained him.

"It occurred to me that I never replaced your bike." He gestured to the new one parked at the bottom of the stairs.

"Oh."

He knew her well enough to suspect she was wrestling with whether she should accept it.

"I got you a helmet, too, in case some other guy knocks you off your bike."

She finally looked right at him, and the impact of her eyes meeting his almost knocked him over. "That was probably a once-in-a-lifetime event." She said.

He kept his gaze trained on her. "It was for me." Rain wet his hair and face, but, afraid to break the spell, he didn't dare move to brush it away.

"Thank you for the bike."

"You're welcome."

In the midst of an awkward silence, Dean scrambled to think of something, anything, he could say that would keep her talking to him. "You'll be soaked by the time you get to North Harbor."

"I'll be fine."

"Let me drive you. I'm going to the same place. We can toss the bike in the back so you can get home later."

"A little rain won't hurt me."

"It'll hurt me to think about you riding your bike in the rain. What if you fall again?"

"Fine," she said, exasperated. "But it's just a ride."

"Okay,"

She came down the stairs. Kyle lunged for Dean.

"Could I hold him? Just for a minute?"

Reluctantly, Megan transferred the baby to Dean's waiting arms. He hugged Kyle in close to him. "Hi, buddy," he said, breathing in his sweet scent. "I missed you this morning."

Kyle took a handful of Dean's hair and tugged. "Dadadadadada."

Dean winced, and not from the pain of having his hair pulled. His eyes flooded, and he was grateful for the rain on his face. "You have a good day with Aunt Paige, pal." Dean kissed the baby's pudgy cheek and handed him back to his mother.

Kyle wailed in protest as Megan walked him across the yard to her sister's house. Dean put the bike in the back of the truck and got in to wait for her. With the window down, he could hear her arguing with Paige, who probably didn't approve of her sister taking a ride from him. A few minutes later, Megan slid into the passenger seat and slammed the door. Her face was flushed and her breathing choppy.

"Is everything okay?" he asked.

"Yes." She didn't say another word on the short ride to North Harbor.

At the hotel, Dean got out to retrieve the bike. When she joined him, he kept a firm grip on the handlebars. "You know where I am if you change your mind."

"Yes," she said without looking at him.

"I love you. Only you and I always will."

Her brief not was the only indication she gave that she'd heard him. Dean held on to the bike, knowing the moment he let go, she'd walk away and never look back.

"I need to go to work."

He reluctantly released his hold on the bike and watched her wheel it up the hill, his heart breaking. "Megan!" The single word burst from his chest in a desperate cry.

Her shoulders stiffened, but she put her head down and kept going.

Megan had considered leaving the island; taking Kyle and the things they couldn't live without and just going. Unfortunately, she didn't have quite enough money saved to make it happen. So, she'd had no choice but to face whatever might be waiting for her outside the safe confines of her apartment.

Rattled by the encounter with Dean, Megan somehow managed to get through the long day at the hotel. Her coworkers were clearly curious about the letters in the paper, but no one asked. At the end of the day, when they were gathered in the supply room folding clean towels and sheets, she decided she had to say something.

"So, um, I know you all saw the paper yesterday."

The other women stopped what they were doing and turned to her. Megan's face heated with embarrassment, but she forced herself to say the words. "I had a bit of trouble with some of the local boys in high school. One of them was mad that I wouldn't sleep with him, so he made up a sotry and got his friends to go along with it. I was given a horrible nickname that has stuck to me ever since."

Beth gasped. "I'm so sorry, Megan."

"These," she said, gesturing to her breasts, "apparently, come with expectations and if you don't live up to them…" Megan shrugged.

"How did it end up in the paper, honey?" Alexa asked.

"I told Dean about it, and he flipped out, especially since his brother was involved."

"So he made them write the letters?" Ronda asked.

Lana stormed into the room. "What's going on here?"

"Leave us alone, Lana," Beth snapped back.

The others watched nervously as the two women stared each other down. Seeming to realize she'd interrupted an intense moment, Lana spun around and left. Alexa closed the door behind her.

"Dean forced them to write the letters?" Ronda asked again.

Megan nodded. "Unfortunately, he failed to mention anything about it to me, so we're over."

"No!" Beth wailed. "You love him! You're going to marry him!"

Megan fought back tears. "I can't marry someone who'd keep something like that from me. I just can't, Beth."

The others got busy again with the sheets and towels.

"Do you guys not agree?" Megan aked.

"It's just that he came here and filled in for you," Alexa said. "That was so sweet of him."

"And remember how nice he was to us?" Sasha added. "Bringing us coffee and that one day he got pizza for everyone."

"I know he's a good guy," Megan said. "That's not what this is about."

"Honey, he wanted to fix it for you," Beth said. "Granted, he went about it all wrong, but he can't help that. He's a man. His intentions were good."

"You guys think I'm crazy to break up with him over this." She'd expected her friends to share her outrage.

No one replied, which spoke volumes.

"I told him that keeping things from me was a deal-breaker, and still he didn't tell me about the letters or that he'd punched Baron, even after I asked him what happened to his hand."

"You have to stand up for what's important to you," Sasha said.

"Absolutely," Alexa said.

If that was true, why was Megan suddenly worried that she'd made a huge mistake?


	20. Chapter 20

On the way home, Megan stopped at the post office to buy stamps.

"Hi there, Megan," Mrs. Helmsley said with a friendly smile.

Megan stared at the woman behind the counter. She'd been in there a hundred times over the years and never once had the woman who ran the local post office addressed her by name.

"How are you today?"

"I'm fine," Megan stammered. "Thanks." She bought her stamps and went to the drugstore. Since she didn't yet have a basket on the new bike, she bought only a few essentials.

"Good afternoon, Megan," Mrs. Gold said. "It's nice to see the sun after all that rain this morning."

Again, Megan was rendered speechless. When she received the same treatment at the grocery store, Megan had to acknowledge that her life on the island seemed to have changed overnight. The rumors people had believed for years had been dispelled. Her reputation had been restored; and she had Dean to thank for that.

Over the next two weeks, Dean threw himself into work. He spent twelve to fourteen hours a day at Ambrose's, either making repairs or reorganizing the business's finances. The company had plenty of money to pay for upgrades, and his father seemed more than happy to turn everything over to Dean.

Too bad he was miserable. He wasn't' sure he'd be able to stay on the island permanently after what had happened with Megan. Living without her and Kyle, especially knowing they were so close but out of reach, was just too damned painful. Except for fleeting glances as she came and went from the hotel, Dean hadn't seen her since the day he'd driven her to work. He continued to hope she'd come around, but he hadn't heard from her and had begun to accept that he wasn't going to. Nikki had convinced him to give Megan some time and space, but the longer he went without seeing her, the worse he felt.

He'd been consulting almost daily with the WWE about the road to WrestleMania, and the possibility of staying on a month to month contract. A few weeks ago, he'd been certain he would stay on the island and had planned on retiring. Now he wasn't sure, so he hadn't said anything to the WWE about long term plans. The more he hedged, however, the more persistent Renee became about pinning him down on a return date.

In light of that, he shouldn't have been surprised when she showed up one day at Ambrose's just as he was starting work on the gift shop roof. He watched Roman's cab pull into the lot. Renee emerged and took a good look around the marina.

Dean suppressed a groan and wished there was somewhere to hide. But she spotted him on the roof and let out a happy shriek. Teetering on spike heels, she came rushing toward him as every guy on the dock stopped what he was doing to stare at her. Wanting to reach her before she got to the pier and broke her neck in those heels, Dean descended quickly from the roof. They met in the parking lot, where Renee launched herself into his arms.

Dean had no choice but to catch her. Gripping a handful of his hair, she wrapped her legs around his hips and planted a huge kiss on him. He heard the whistles and catcalls, but all Dean could think about while she kissed him senseless was getting rid of her as fast as he could.

"Megan," Beth whispered. "Linda wants to see you in the office."

"Did she say why?"

Wide-eyed, Beth shook her head. "Good luck," she called after her as Megan took the stairs from the third floor to Linda's lobby office.

Outside the door, Megan steeled herself and knocked briskly. "You wanted to see me?"

Linda looked up from a spreadsheet on the desk. "Megan, hi." She waved her in. "Close the door, please."

Megan took the seat Linda offered.

"Can I get you anything? Maybe some coffee or tea?"

Surprised by the friendly reception, Megan said, "Um, no thank you."

"I heard an interesting rumor when I was in town the other day."

Not more rumors! "Oh?"

"Is it true the Beachcomber is trying to lure you away from us?"

"Natalya made me an offer, but I haven't given her an answer."

Linda folded her hands on the desktop. "Lana is leaving us at the end of the summer. I'd like you to replace her. As a management position, it's full-time, year-round, with benefits and two weeks' paid vacation." She rattled off a salary that shocked Megan. It was even more than Nattie had offered.

"Why me? You have other people on the housekeeping staff that has been here longer."

"Beth and Ronda wouldn't want the hassle as this point in their lives, and the others aren't qualified. Besides, you're the one that I want."

"Why?" Megan asked, shocked by this sudden shift in Linda's attitude towards her.

"For one thing, I owe you an apology. I'm appalled by what my son Elias was involved in and by what those boys did to you. I can't deny I've treated you unfairly because I believed what people said about you. I'm ashamed to admit that." Linda paused and then looked at Megan. "I'm not asking you to forgive me, but I do hope that you'll consider the job."

"I'll think about it."

Linda nodded. "That is all that I ask."

Megan got up to leave.

"Megan."

She turned back.

"I've never seen Dean so low. He's working himself to death trying to keep his mind off of what happened with you."

Megan's stomach churned. "I thought you didn't approve of our relationship?"

"I was wrong about that, too. He's heartbroken, and I can't bear to see him this way. I was probably as angry at him about those letters as you were, so I understand where you're coming from."

"But…?"

"He loves you and your son. He truly does. Is there any way you can find it in your heart to forgive him?"

Megan's heart fluttered painfully. For weeks, she'd agonized over the situation. While she still didn't appreciate that he'd kept something so important from her, she had to acknowledge the letters had changed her life.

"Does he know you're offering me a new job?"

Linda shook her head. "No one knows about that but you and I." She paused before she added, "But if you want to discuss it with him, he's at the marina."

"Do you think he'd be happy to see me?"

"He would be thrilled."

For the first time since she'd walked away from him, Megan felt a glimmer of hope. Without taking another second to consider the implications, she darted from Linda's office and out the hotel's front door. She was halfway down the hill when a curvy, short-haired, blond woman launched herself into Dean's arms and kissed him passionately.

Frozen in place, Megan watched them long enough to see Dean return the woman's kiss. Megan turned away, trudged up the hill and went back to work.


	21. Chapter 21

"What are you doing here?" Dean asked as he extricated himself from Renee's embrace and lowered her to rickety heels.

"I missed you so much. I couldn't wait another day to see you." She combed her fingers through his hair. "You look much better. Nice tan, too."

"I've been working outside for a change."

"This is such a…cute…place. It's very eclectic."

Dean laughed to himself, imagining her reaction if she knew how much the cute little business was worth. "I wish I'd known you were coming. I'm really busy."

Her face fell. "You're not happy to see me?"

"It's not that."

"Then what is it?"

Dean glanced at the hotel and then at Renee, trying to find the words.

"You've got someone else, don't you?"

He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "It's complicated."

"Actually, it's quite simple—do you have someone else or don't you?"

"I do." Even though he wasn't with Megan anymore, his heart belonged to her, and he couldn't lead Renee on.

"Well, that didn't take long. Are you planning to tell the WWE that you're not coming back?"

"I haven't decided what I'm doing yet. They'll be the first to know."

"And were you going to tell me?"

"I told you before I left—"

"That we were taking a break. You never said we were over."

"I thought you understood—"

"Will you ask that man who brought me to take me back to the ferry?

"I can take you back."

She folded her arms and looked away. "I'd rather go with him."

"Renee…"

"Will you ask him or shall I?"

When had his life gotten so damned complicated? Dean went over to where his father, Roman, and Luke leaned against the pilings, watching the show. "Rome, Renee can't stay. Would you mind giving her a ride into town?"

"Boy, you sure can pick 'me," Roman chortled.

"Will you take her?" Dean asked through gritted teeth.

"With pleasure."

"I'm sorry," Dean said to Renee as he helped her into the cab.

She whipped a packet of envelopes out of her oversized purse and shoved it at him. "Here's your mail. Have a nice life."

As Roman's car left the parking lot, Vinnie Mac put a hand on Dean's shoulder. "Are you all right, son?"

"Yeah." Dean hated that she'd come so far to be disappointed, but he took comfort in knowing he'd been perfectly clear about where things stood between them before he left Vegas.

"Why don't you come home for dinner tonight?"

Because he had nothing better to do, Dean agreed.

Dean picked at the plate of shrimp scampi, remembering Megan refusing to order it on their first date because it had too much garlic. They'd had so little time together, but they'd created memories that might have to sustain him for a lifetime. That thought destroyed what was left of his appetite.

"Are you not hungry, Dean?"

"I'm sorry, Mom." Dean wiped his mouth and put down his fork. "It's really good."

Studying him, she took a sip of wine. "Did anything exciting happen today?"

Vinnie Mac chuckled. "You mean other than Renee showing up and shocking the hell out of him?"

Linda froze. "She was here? On the island?"

"Yeah, showed up and put on a hell of a show." Vinnie Mac said.

"When?"

"I think, around two or so, wasn't it son?"

Dean shrugged. "I guess."

"Oh, God," Linda whispered.

"What is it, hon?" Vinnie Mac asked as his brows knitted with concern.

"Megan."

"What about her?" Dean asked, suddenly on full alert.

"She went to the marina to see you. Right around then. You didn't talk to her?"

"I never saw her." Dean groaned, remembering Renee's enthusiastic greeting. He pushed back from the table. "Why was she coming?"

"I think she might be ready to talk to you about what happened."

"Oh no," Vinnie Mac said, stricken. "Renee was quite happy to see him."

"I've got to go," Dean said. "I'm sorry, Mom. Thank you for dinner."

Linda tipped her face to receive his kiss. "Go, honey. Go find her."

Dean cursed his shitty luck. What were the odds of Megan had finally decided to come talk to him just as Renee wrapped herself around him? Banging his fist on the steering wheel, he let out a string of swears. He pulled into Paige's driveway for the first time in weeks, his heart racing with hope and fear. What would he do if she wouldn't let him explain? Megan was sitting at the top of the stairs. Startled by his sudden appearance, she stood up to go inside.

"Wait!" Dean leaped from the truck and ran up the stairs. "Listen to me! She means nothing to me! She never did."

"I know what I saw."

"You saw her jump on me, and kiss me. I had no idea she was coming. I didn't want her here, and I certainly didn't want to kiss her." Dean took hold of Megan's arm to keep her from walking away. "The only one I want to kiss is you, and you know that. I told her I'm involved with someone else and sent her back to Vegas on the first boat."

Megan's beautiful eyes widened with surprise. "You said that even though we broke up?"

"That hasn't changed how I feel about you. Nothing could." He skimmed his fingers over her arm, gratified when she shivered. "I miss you. I miss everything about you."

Her eyes fluttered closed. He caressed her cheek, reveling in the soft skin he'd yearned for, and rested his forehead against hers. "You're the only one I want, Megan," he whispered. "The only one I'll ever want. I'm sorry I hurt you. I never meant for that to happen."

She leaned into him. "I know that now."

"Marry me, Megan. I can't live without you and Kyle."

"Dean…"

"Just say yes."

She studied him for just long enough for Dean to realize his whole life had led to her and this moment.


	22. Chapter 22

"Yes."

Shocked, he stared at her. "Really?"

"I have conditions."

"Whatever you want."

"You don't want to hear them?"

"Later." Even though he was dying to kiss her, he only held her, drowning in the scent of summer flowers and the feel of silky hair. Overwhelmed with relief, he swallowed the huge lump in his throat. "There's something I need to show you. Can you and Kyle come with me? Is he asleep?"

"No, not yet. He's still chattering in his crib."

"So, will you come?"

"Okay."

Dean loaded them into the truck, and headed to the south end of the island, past Santino's and the Hydrangea House Bed & Breakfast, taking a right onto Sweet Meadow Farm Road. Sitting between them in his backward-facing ca seat, Kyle gripped Dean's finger so tightly, Dean wondered if the baby was afraid to let go.

"Where are we going?" Megan asked.

"You'll see," The pave road changed to gravel about halfway down. I'll need to get a plow for the truck before it snows, Dean thought. He took the final turn, and the house came into view. "What do you think?"

"Oh, it's beautiful! Whose is it?"

"The house is ours."

She gasped. "It is not! Don't make jokes like that, Dean!"

"Who's joking?" He laughed at her as he parked. "Come check it out." Before he got out, he reached under the seat for an envelope that he stashed in his back pocket.

Megan got Kyle out of his car seat and met Dean in front of the truck. As he wrapped his hand around hers, he felt a tremble go through her.

"What do you think?"

"You can't be serious. This isn't a house. It's a mansion!"

"It's got everything I wanted—lots of land, a good view and room for our family to grow." He appreciated the dazzling glow the unset had cast upon the property. "All that matters now is if it has everything you want."

She looked at him as if he had three heads.

"What?"

"Are you seriously asking me that? Does it have two bedrooms?"

"Um, five bedrooms, actually."

"Then I'm sold."

"You haven't even seen the inside yet."

Tears spilled down her cheeks. "We're really going to live here?"

Dean put his arm around her and kissed her forehead. "We really are."

"It's a palace," she whispered. "I just never imagined…" She look up at him. "You can afford something like this?"

"My friend, Roman, gave me a sweet deal."

"Still, it has to be a fortune."

"I can handle it, honey. My merchandise with WWE is still one of the top sellers, and doing really well. I'll get my end bonus from my contract and royalties. Then I have to sell my house in Vegas."

"I can't imagine having that kind of money."

"Well, you do now."

She shook her head. "It's yours."

"Everything I have is ours. Everything." He tipped her chin up and kissed her while Kyle squirmed between them. "You got that?"

"It'll take some getting used to."

"We've got nothing but time. Do you want to see the inside?"

She nodded, her eyes sparkling now with excitement, and Dean had never loved her more. When he took her inside and gave her the tour, there were more tears.

"I was thinking," he said, directing her to the deck that overlooked the ocean, "that the yard would be the perfect place to tie the knot. What do you say?"

"Oh yes! Absolutely!"

"I want to do it as soon as we can, okay?"

"About that…" she glanced up at him, her expression wary. "My mother is due home in a couple of weeks. I'd like to wait for her, if that's all right with you."

"Of course it is. Whatever you want."

"Will you always be such an accommodating husband?"

"Maybe not always, but it'll always matter to me that you're happy."

She bent to put Kyle down on the carpet and linked her arms around Dean's neck. "I feel like I'm dreaming," she said, drawing him into a kiss. "I missed you so much."

"Me, too. I thought I'd go crazy without you." Dean wanted to lose himself in the kiss, but he held back. "Hold that thought for a second, will you?"

Moaning in protest, Megan released him.

"So, um, there's something that I have to tell you and you might get mad at me for not telling you sooner, but I had a really good reason—"

"What have you done now?"

Dean withdrew the envelope from him back pocket and handed it to her.

"What's this?"

"Open it."

Giving him that wary look she did so well, she withdrew the papers from the envelope and scanned them. He was about to explain when she gasped, and her hand flew up to cover her mouth.

"Before you freak out, will you listen to me?"

She couldn't seem to speak, so she nodded.

"A couple of days after we ran into him on the ferry, he found me in the diner when I was there with Kyle. He said he'd asked around and knew we weren't married and hadn't been together long. He'd figured out that Kyle was probably his."

"Oh God," she whispered. The stricken look on her face broke his heart and confirmed he'd done the right thing by not telling her when it happened. "Oh my God!"

Dean rested his hands on her shoulders. "All he cared about was that we'd come after him for money."

"I've never wanted his money!"

"That is what I told him, but he wanted assurances. I said we'd sign something releasing him from financial obligation if he'd sign away his rights to Kyle so that I can adopt him."

She wrenched free of Dean's hold and began to pace the big empty room. From the floor, Kyle watched them with that big-eyed, solemn expression of his.

"This happened weeks ago! When were you going to tell me?"

"As soon as I had the signed papers from him, which Renee delivered to me with my mail. I was going to bring them to you tonight."

"Why didn't you tell me the day that it happened? We're right back to you keeping things from me!"

Dean forced himself to stay calm. "If I'd told you that he knew about Kyle, you wouldn't have been able to breathe or sleep or eat for the two weeks it took him to get these papers to me."

"Is this how it's going to be?" She threw her hands up. "You're going to take care of everything and leave me out of it?"

"Stuff like this? Absolutely."

"That's not how I want to live, Dean. That's not the kind of marriage I want."

"This is me, Megan. It's who I am. I see something that'll make you sick with worry, and I make it go away. I love you too much to watch you suffer like that, and you would've suffered over this." He went to her, slid an arm around her waist and brought her in close to him. "You would have suffered."

She expelled a deep, shuddering breath as all the fight went out of her. "You're right, I would have."

"Now you don't have to. He signed his way right out of our lives." Dean pressed his lips to her forehead. "Are you still mad?"

"No," she said softly. "I'm sad."

"Because of what I did?"

She shook her head. "No, because his father cares so little about him that he'd sign him away without ever even knowing him."

Dean stepped back from her, picked up Kyle from the floor and hugged them both. "His father cares so much about him that there's nothing he wouldn't do for him. His father will love him and care for him and give him his name and protect him every day of his life."

Megan looked up at him with her heart in those chocolate brown eyes. He brushed a gentle kiss over her lips. "His father will love him and his mother forever." He kissed her again. "Now about those conditions you mentioned…"

"Will Kyle's father try very hard to not keep things from his mother?"

"He'll do his best, as long as he's allowed to occasionally surprise her."

She raised that eyebrow of hers. "And these will be good surprises?"

"The very best surprises he can think of."

"In that case, my friend, you've got yourself a family."

"I guess its official, then."

"What is? Our engagement?"

"That, too." Dean leaned in to kiss her once more. "Knocking you off of your bike was the best thing I have ever done."

Megan smiled. "I couldn't agree more."


	23. Chapter 23

_**Epilogue**_

Driving away from the palatial home Dean had bought for them; Megan looked back at it, her greedy gaze taking in every detail until they drove out of sight. She still couldn't believe that incredible house was going to be her home. She'd started this day like all the others for the last two weeks, devastated by the loss of her relationship with Dean, as well as his love for her and Kyle, his entertaining personality, the nonstop laughter. She'd missed everything about him. And when she'd seen another woman wrapped around him, enthusiastically kissing him, and Dean appearing to return her kisses, what'd been left of her heart had been shattered.

Despondent, she'd left work that afternoon and gone home to face the rest of her life without the only man she'd ever loved. And then he'd come flying into the driveway, leaving a cloud of dust in his wake, desperate to make things right with her. Now they were engaged, and the past two week so hell faded into the past, replaced by the kind of bone-deep happiness Megan had never known.

 _Dean Ambrose is going to be my husband. He's going to adopt Kyle and raise him as his own. Someone please pinch me. This cannot be happening._

Dean reached across Kyle's car seat for her hand. "What are you thinking about over there?"

Megan linked their fingers, and the feeling of right-ness, of being exactly where she belonged, overwhelmed her. "I can't believe everything that just happened. "We're engaged. You're going to adopt Kyle. We're going to live in that amazing house. I'm pregnant. It can't all be true, can it?"

Smiling, he glanced over at her and then her words seemed to hit him. He carefully pulled over to the side of the road and put the truck in park. "What did you just say?"

"That we're engaged. You're going to adopt Kyle. We're going to live in that amazing house…"

"…And?"

"That I'm pregnant." Megan said with a timid look on her face.

She carefully studied the look on Dean's face to judge his reaction. When nothing happened, she started to get worried. Just then, his face broke into the biggest smile she had ever seen come from him.

"Y-y-you're pregnant?"

"Yes, Dean. I'm pregnant."

Dean eyes widened with the shock of the news, and he immediately dropped his gaze to her stomach. Cautiously, he reached out a hand to touch. "There is actually a baby—our baby—growing in there?"

Megan couldn't help but chuckle. "Yes, Dean. Our baby is growing in there."

"I can't believe it. Everything is finally coming together. We are going to be a family."

"We are. Kyle is going to have a baby brother or sister."

They both looked at the child, who was dozing off in his seat.

"It's happening, baby, and nothing has ever made me happier than you saying all of those words to me." He returned his attention back to putting the truck in drive and on the road. He reached over and wrapped his hand tightly around hers the rest of the way back to her place.

Dean pulled into the driveway and parked in his usual spot, right where he belonged. "Let me get him," he said when she would've carried Kyle and his care seat inside. He was always so attentive to her son, and Kyle adored him.

Megan went around the truck to help him with the car seat and nearly ran smack into her sister, who appeared out of the darkness.

"What's going on, Megan?" Paige asked.

"Well, it appears I've gotten myself engaged."

"To him?!"

Out of the corner of her eye, she caught Dean's amused expression. "Yes, Paige, to him."

"But he broke your heat! You've been crying over him for weeks."

"We've worked things out, and I hope you'll find a way to be happy for me and for Kyle. Dean is going to adopt him."

"I'm going to take very good care of your sister and nephew, Paige," Dean said. "You can count on that."

"This is what you want, Megan?" Paige asked.

"It is what I want. He's what I want."

After a long pause, Paige stepped forward and hugged her sister. "I just want you to be happy."

"I'm so happy," Megan whispered. "It's all good. I promise."

"You'd better be good to my sister or you'll answer to me, Dean. I mean it."

"I know you do, and you have nothing to worry about. I promise."

"We need to get Kyle in bed," Megan said to her sister. "He's super sleepy. We'll see you in the morning?"

Paige nodded and turned to go back to her house, her shoulders curving in, and a sign of her sister's deep discontent. Megan hoped that one day; Paige would know the kind of happiness Megan was feeling at this moment.

"Whew," Dean whispered. "I feel like I just passed an important test."

"You did. She loves me and wants the best for me."

"She and I have that in common."

They went up the stairs and into the apartment that wouldn't be their home for too much longer.

"Would it be okay if I gave him his bath?" Dean asked. "I've missed that so much."

"Of course." She'd been too despondent to bother with Kyle's bath earlier, intending to take care of it in the morning. Now she wouldn't have to.

Dean hooked his free arm around her neck and kissed her, lingering despite the squirming toddler he held in his other arm. "While you're waiting for me, change into something sexy. We've got a lot of time to make up for."

Megan's body heated from the inside at the promise of pleasure she heard in his words. She couldn't wait to be alone with him.

Dean sat by the tub and watched over Kyle as he splashed and played with his toys, making a huge mess of the bathroom and soaking Dean's t-shirt. As far as Dean was concerned, there was nothing the baby could do that wouldn't be fine with him. He was so damned glad to be back with them, overseeing bath time the way he used to, and looking forward to spending the night wrapped up in Megan. His cell phone rang, and he took the call from his mother.

"Dean, thank goodness you answered! We're going crazy wondering if you found Megan and—"

"Relax, Mom," he said, chuckling. "It's all good. I found her, I explained about Renee and I asked Megan to marry me. She said yes!"

She shriek from the other end of the phone had him holding it away from his ear. "They're engaged!" Linda said, presumably to Vinnie Mac. "Oh, Dean, I'm so happy for both of you. I've hated how sad you've been the last few weeks. I never want to see you that way again."

"As long as I have Megan, Kyle and the new baby," he said, tapping one of the toy boats so it bounced off the baby's foot, making him giggle. "I've got what I need."

"Wait…what?!"

"Megan is pregnant, Mom. We are going to have a baby."

Again, the shriek from the other end of the phone had him holding it away from his ear for a longer period of time. Dean couldn't help but laugh at her reactions.

"Oh my Gosh! I'm going to be a grandmother!" Linda hollered. Dean could also hear Vinnie Mac hollering in excitement in the background.

"Surprise!" Dean said.

"I won't keep you, honey. Congratulations on everything!"

"Thank you. In case you were wondering, I won't be home tonight."

"I figured as much," Linda said, laughing. "I'll talk to you tomorrow."

"Bye, Mom."

Megan appeared in the doorway, wearing the silk nightgown that made his mouth go dry when he looked at her. "So, I take it that you broke the news to your parents?"

"Uh-huh," he said, staring.

"Were they happy?"

"They were thrilled, with both aspects."

"Your mom offered me a new job today as the director of housekeeping."

Dean forced himself to look up at her eyes, which were shining with amusement at the greedy way he'd looked at the rest of her. "That's great, honey. You deserve the recognition after all of your hard work. Are you going to take the job?"

"I haven't decided yet. Let's get Kyle out of there before he turns into a raisin."

Dean took the baby-sized frog towel from her and wrapped Kyle up in it. Staring down at his adorable little face, tears burned Dean's eyes. He was so damned grateful to have him back in his arms, especially knowing he'd have another little bundle of joy in nine short months.

Taking Kyle into the apartment's only bedroom, Dean laid the baby on the changing table and expertly diapered and dressed him, marveling at the things that now came so naturally to him. He'd never changed a diaper in his life until he met them.

He picked Kyle up and snuggled him into his chest, the baby nuzzling into the crook between Dean's neck and shoulder the way he always did. Though he was desperate to be with Megan, Dean wasn't ready to put him down yet, so he rubbed his back and held him close until the baby's body went slack with sleep. Only then did Dean tuck him into his crib and pull a light blanket over him. "I love you so much, buddy, and I always will," he whispered.

He was still staring down at the sleeping baby when Megan came into the room and slid her arms around his waist.

"He missed you as much as I did," Megan whispered. "He's been miserable without you."

"He'll never spend another day without me."

Megan took his hand and gave it a gentle tug, encouraging him to leave Kyle to sleep. Dean ran a hand over the baby's silky hair and adjusted the blanket one more time before he let her lead him from the room. While he'd been busy with the baby, she'd lit some candles and pulled out the sofa bed for them.

"I wish I had something better than that crappy bed for us tonight," she said wistfully.

"All I need tonight is you and Kyle sleeping in the next room. I don't care where we are or what we do as long as we're together."

"You don't care what we do?" she asked, arching a brow. "Hmm, as I seem to recall, you rather liked what we did, but if you don't care—"

Grinning like a damn fool at the return of the playful, funny Megan he loved so much, he kissed the rest of that sentence right off her lips. "I care," he said, running his hands over her silk-covered curves. "I care desperately." He couldn't take his eyes off the abundant breasts that were the bane of her existence and the thing of fantasy for him.

"Don't look at them," she said, crossing her arms.

Dean took her hands, and lowered her arms and kissed her. "I love to look at every part of you, because every inch of you is beautiful to me."

She worked her hands free and wrapped her arms around his neck. Her mouth opened to his tongue, and like gas thrown on a fire, the desire simmering between them for the last few hours exploded. They came down on the flimsy bed, arms and legs entangled, lips devouring, tongues plunging, both equally desperate to be reunited in every way possible.

Dean tried to slow himself down, to savor, to appreciate every sigh and moan, but it was too late for slow as they tore at clothes while never missing a beat in the most erotic kiss of his life.

"Hold on, baby. This is gonna go fast." He thrust into her, gasping from the sweet relief, the tight squeeze, the heat, and the overwhelming sense of rightness. "Megan," he whispered against her lips. "I never would've survived without you and Kyle. You can't ever leave me again. Promise me."

Wrapping her arms and legs around him, she made him her prisoner, which was totally fine with him. "I promise. I was so lonely for you."

"You'll never be lonely for me again. I'll drive you so crazy, you'll wish I'd go away and leave you alone."

"Never."

Fully seated in her, Dean raised himself up on his arms so he could look down at her face, which was rosy with the heat they generated together. Her beautiful brown hair was spread out on the blanket, her lips swollen and her eyes filled with love for him. She was a miracle come to life, and her love made his life complete.

"You and me, Megan," he said, his lips brushing against hers as he began to move in her again. "We're going to be epic together. Are you ready for that?"

"I'm ready, Dean. I'm ready for everything with you."

"That's all I need to hear to be happy for the rest of my life."

 _ **The End**_


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